Move
by AnimeCountDown
Summary: Gaara is the misunderstood foreign student at Konoha High, but he is not the only one with problems. Experience the lives of multiple teenagers in different situations as you read this high school drama. Warning: Modern.
1. Gaara's Against the World

* * *

**CAIRO, EGYPT – 10:06 P.M. – AUG. 2, THURS.**

* * *

"_Again?_"

The shriek pierced through Gaara's walls, overcoming the blaring metal in his ears. Misty blue eyes darted up to glance at the door that blocked off the world from his haven, and as he contemplated the idea of seeing what the commotion was, the music suddenly cut off. He growled inwardly, glaring at the iPod in his hands, battery dead now, exhausted from its extensive use. Shaking his head with a disgusted scoff, he tugged the earplugs from his ears and stalked to his charger, hooking up the small piece of machinery before turning back to the securely locked door he hated.

Silently, he slipped from his room and crept halfway downstairs; kneeling at the place where he could just catch a glimpse of the living room if he knelt on one knee. It was the perfect place for eavesdropping when somebody wanted to keep things from him, which was just about always. He glanced down and saw who had started the commotion: Temari.

Hands on her hips, his sister was glowering accusingly at Yashamaru, their legal guardian and uncle. It had been her who had screamed before, and there were only a couple guesses why. Gaara remained unmoving as his spunky older sister advanced on his hated uncle with little physical action, only words.

"God, Yashamaru!" she yelled, letting her hands fall so they could fist tightly at her sides. "This is getting to be absolutely ridiculous! Have you no will power at all?"

"How many times are you going to make us move, huh?" the brunette beside her questioned, though it was clear he wasn't seeking an answer.

Kankuro was always trying to get that edge of authority that Temari usually claimed for herself. He was the second born, and though he was never happy with it, he still got his fair share of bossing Gaara around whenever he could. Now, though, Gaara felt his brow furrow as his mind registered Kankuro's words.

"I apologize Temari, Kankuro," Yashamaru tried again, but Gaara could tell that he was getting nowhere. "But this is very urgent! My job is forcing me – I mean us – to move again. It's for the better, trust me!"

"That's what you said last time," Temari reminded him. She looked so pissed, Gaara almost expected her to snarl and rip off that pretty blonde head. "And look where _this_ place got us!"

"I agree, Temari, but this will definitely be the last time we move!" Yashamaru claimed, hands rising in self-defense.

"Right, and that's what you said the time before last," Kankuro snorted, shaking his head pitifully at Yashamaru.

"All right, look," Yashamaru ordered, straightening his shoulders and standing a little taller. Gaara watched, noticing the posture as his "authority stance." This would be the time where he'd stand up for himself and his lame excuses "I may not be your father, but I'm certainly in charge of this household. If I say we're moving, there's no argument about it, got it? Plus, Gaara's been getting into way too much trouble here. It's about time we moved anyway."

"Don't bring Gaara into this!" Temari growled, taking a step towards Yashamaru as she jabbed a finger in his direction. "He's my little brother – _your nephew_ – and I'm not just going to let you blame this move on him! Cut the shit and give a good reason to why we're moving!"

"Watch your language!" Yashamaru yelled, and Kankuro chuckled under his breath.

"No!" Temari said, crossing her arms and quirking an eyebrow at her uncle. "I can speak however I want!"

"Not in my house," Yashamaru disagreed, smirking at her like a true evil parent.

"Technically, this is the government's house," Temari retorted with the fakest sweet smile Gaara had seen her put up yet. The sarcasm didn't go well with Yashamaru, but he let it slide and brought up the other topic in her claim.

"Exactly," Yashamaru said, running a hand through his hair. "If they want us out, then there's nothing I can do about, so don't put this on me. This is my job, all right?"

"Get a new one," Kankuro suggested, attempting to ignore the look of idiocy Yashamaru gave him.

"I can't just quit being involved with the government, and you both know that," he said. Gaara mentally noted how no one had even thought of coming to get him yet. Didn't he have the right to know that they were moving? And then his name was in the conversation again. "Just like I can't stop being any of your guardians. Would you want me to just drop out on you guys? You try dealing with Gaara for a week and see how it feels."

Gaara gritted his teeth together, seething with fury as his uncle spoke of him so casually. He was the burden of the family, sure, but what gave that disgrace the right to talk about him in such a disrespectful way? Fingers curling into quivering fists, Gaara took a deep breath, trying to smother his anger with something else, but could find nothing to hold it down.

"What's that mean?" Temari asked, her irritation peeking once again. "Stop talking about Gaara like that. He's not a piece of trash, so you don't have to treat him like one, even if you don't love him like you should! I mean, it's not like you ever have."

Gaara twitched, sucking in another breath to calm himself, but it only wracked up and down his body, making it jerk unnaturally on the staircase. He finally regained his composure and was able to turn his attention back on the conversation.

"Drop it, Tem," Kankuro warned, placing a large hand on Temari's shoulder. She let out a huff, but retreated for now, not letting her flaming eyes leave Yashamaru's worried ones. "Look, Yashamaru, why don't we make you a deal, huh?"

Yashamaru was quiet for a short while before raising an eyebrow and crossing him arms, a small, "I'm listening," escaping into the air.

"How about…" Kankuro paused, thinking over his choice of words carefully so he got it right the first time. "If we make sure Gaara keeps his grades up and stays out of trouble for the next two years, we don't move again."

"Why two?" Temari asked, looking at her brother. Gaara noticed she probably knew the answer already – she just didn't want to believe her brother was suggesting it. He felt his heart drop.

"Well, you graduate this year," Kankuro explained, shrugging as if this were just a normal business deal. Gaara did not doubt that this was exactly what it was to those disgusting people. "And I will next year. Then Gaara really is all yours." He had turned back to Yashamaru for the last part, but Temari recaptured his attention by smacking him hard in the chest.

"We can't just ditch Gaara because we _graduate_!" Temari scolded, stepping away from her brother with horror written on her features.

Gaara figured she should be used to it by now – he was. This was the point in the discussion where Temari and Kankuro divided in agreement, breaking up so it became a three-way battle instead of two-on-one. He watched wearily as Kankuro rolled his eyes.

"Why not?" he scoffed, shaking his head at her as if she should have realized something long ago. "He's just a spoiled brat. It's not like we can do anything for him, so stop acting like he's some angel, Temari. I think we can all agree that he's not."

"He's your _brother_," Temari whispered disbelievingly, looking at Kankuro in a state of betrayal and shock.

"It's not like he cares," Kankuro muttered, and Gaara felt his blood boil.

That _bastard_ didn't think he _cared_? Well, what exactly was he supposed to care about? Was he supposed to be thankful for the loving, kind family that some figure "god" had put him in? Yeah right. Like there could be any god. If there was, then Gaara owed him _nothing_. He owed nothing to anyone.

"I'll consider that," Yashamaru said with a nod, bringing his forefinger and thumb to his chin in thought. "Yes, I think I could manage that somehow. I could arrange that with my boss, but _only_ if you can keep him under control."

Under control? They spoke of him as if he were a dog with rabies. Gaara felt a lump build in his throat, making it hard to breath, to swallow. What was he to them? He laughed inwardly at the question, the answer coming to his mind at once: a monster. That was all he was. He was not loved or respected – he was just something they had to take care of until they could let him drop, free from their responsibilities.

Gaara listened to the eerie silence that proceeded Yashamaru's words, how they all contemplated their decision, the actual dedication they would have to make to _him_. But no, not because they wanted the best for him – just so _they_ wouldn't be inconvenienced any further. They were not a family, just a group of people stuck together because of the blood they all shared – Kankuro and Temari were siblings, Yashamaru was their guardian by law, and Gaara was a mistake.

"Whatever," Temari said, scowling at the idea, but Gaara could just picture her thinking of all the ways she could tie him to the leash, rein him in so he would not screw up her senior year.

"Good," Kankuro said with a nod, and Gaara knew that his older brother could not be feeling more smug than Gaara felt sick.

"Right then," Yashamaru said, wiping the sweat on his palms away on his slacks. A nervous smile was all it took to lighten the tension in the room.

Gaara's eyes narrowed as the atmosphere lightened, immediately disliking how everyone else had a reason to be happy, to _smile_. Smirking to himself for a couple seconds, he stood, took four more steps down and then leaned over the railing, glaring evilly at the three staring at him in surprise and horror. He knew what they were thinking: "How much did he hear?" _Everything._ His gaze locked with Yashamaru's wide-eyed one, and his smirk grew, the lines contorting the youth of his face.

"You forgot to tell us where we're headed."

* * *

**CAIRO, EGYPT – 10:59 P.M. – AUG. 2, THURS.**

* * *

Gaara slumped against the window pane, releasing the breath he had forgotten he had been holding. Air filled his lungs all at once, and he growled to himself, hating how the dull throb still remained in his chest. It was that stupid little flame that kept dwindling down to a little flicker, just about to blow away forever, and then it would flare to life again. The slightest thing would kindle the fire, and Gaara hated how vulnerable it made him feel – it made him angry, infuriated at the entire world for what it did to him.

Shoving the black earplugs into his ears, Gaara randomly scrolled through his songs with little interest in what he was doing. How could they just use him like this? He was so unappreciated; as if he were a tool, ready to be used whenever he could come in handy, but not good enough for anything else, to keep.

Every once and a while, Temari tried to take his side, to defend him just a little, but it was not because she loved him. Gaara knew that something so miraculous as that was not even possible – no one could love him. She only did it so she could think of herself as a better person, so she could stand up and be proud of herself for such a pointless thing as faking affection. It had been all too easy to persuade her the other way when Yashamaru had promised her a move-free senior year.

Music filled his ears in a sudden blast of guitar – "Me Against The World" by Simple Plan. It seemed to fit the moment, if anything else, and Gaara was feeling more than rebellious. They thought he had gotten into trouble before? Just wait until his siblings saw what they would get for using him like some little puppet! He had no strings, and he was sure as hell going to make sure they knew before a month's time.

Ignoring how the music's volume created a dull ache in his ears, Gaara scowled, realizing just how much he hated the world for the way it treated him. It did not matter who it was, everyone treated him the exact same way: relatives, teachers, classmates, and even strangers he had never seen before. Everyone gave him the same look. Everyone said he did not belong. Everyone felt the same way, and made sure he knew, except Yashamaru, of course.

"_We're not gonna be just a part of their game._

_We're not gonna be just the victims._

_They're takin' our dreams,_

_And they tear them apart,_

'_Til everyone' s the same."_

At first, he had been kind and sweet, the only person Gaara had ever looked to for comfort and help. The words and actions he'd used to address or speak to Gaara were never less than friendly and loving. As Gaara grew up, it became more and more evident just how many people did not care about him, including his father. Once he had figured this out, he had thought of Yashamaru as a shelter to stand under when the world pelted him with storms of fury and hatred, the only one that could get rid of the hurt for just a little while.

"_I've got no place to go._

_I've got nowhere to run._

_They love to watch me fall. _

_They think they know it all."_

However, when Gaara was but six years old, he had overheard his father and uncle conversing in the kitchen. He had planned to simply ignore it, as he had been taught how rude it was to eavesdrop – then he heard his name. As he got closer, he heard more of the painful words Yashamaru was speaking. Gaara closed his eyes, remembering each cruel thing he had come to know as the truth in this horrible world.

"_I'm a nightmare,_

_A disaster._

_That's what they always said._

_I'm a lost cause,_

_Not a hero._

_But I'll make it on my own._

_I've gotta prove them wrong._

_Me against the world._

_It's me against the world."_

It was from that moment on that Gaara was positive no one loved him. It was something one could not deny, a proven fact when it came to Gaara mixing with anyone else – he was un-loveable. In return to the favor life had presented him with, Gaara loved not a soul back. They did not deserve it. He loved only himself, the disturbed young man he had become. Isolated and lonely, he shunned the world just as it had always spurned him. He would have nothing of these bonds of supposed love, the ones that tore you down the moment you put your faith in them.

"_We won't let them change how,_

_We feel in our hearts._

_We're not gonna let them control us._

_We won't let them shove,_

_All their thoughts in our heads._

_And will never be like them."_

Growling to himself through bared teeth, Gaara opened his eyes to gaze past the glass his body was leaning against. Upon instinct, he began searching the swirling winds of sand, the rolling, shifting waves of light, grainy land. The silver moon reflecting rays of light from what could only be that place called heaven gave the desert its nighttime bluish tint, that eerie dark azure – it had become Gaara's favorite color. This was his favorite view of the desert they lived in, the ultimate reason he did not want to move.

"_I've got no place to go._

_I've got nowhere to run._

_They love to watch me fall._

_They think they know it all."_

This was his only sanctuary, the window seat in his room, so close to the world he hated, and so far away when he drifted off into another life. Every night, it was here that he calmed his hazardous emotions, and it was here that he thought when he needed an answer. Moving meant he would have to leave this inner peace that he had only just found behind him, never to see it again. He rested here, actually felt comfortable here. The sand was his relaxation, and the moon was his aide. Gaara always had good luck when the moon was complete, rounded circle in the starry night sky. Of course, tonight it was just a sliver of white.

"_I'm a nightmare,_

_A disaster._

_That's what they always said._

_I'm a lost cause,_

_Not a hero._

_But I'll make it on my own._

_I've gotta prove them wrong._

_It's me against the world._

_Me against the world."_

A sigh escaped his lips roughly, his deep voice making it come out more harshly than he planned, but he did not care. He turned his thoughts to the problem at hand, and gazed up at the illuminated orb he called a friend. Since they were moving, Temari would have been the one to tell him the news – Yashamaru hated him and Kankuro was too irritable around him – but because he knew, he assumed she would come up anyway. To tell him to behave. Like a good boy. She was the peacemaker, so the job came easily to her.

"_Now I'm sick of this waiting,_

_So come on and take your shot."_

She would begin by apologizing that they had not come to get him, that he had had to hear the argument from their side and not his own. She would try to get on his good side again, make sure she was not one of the ones he held a grudge against. As soon as she was done with that, she would tell him that cooperating with Yashamaru would be for the best – he knew what he was doing – even if she had been screaming at him just half an hour ago.

"_You can spit all your insults,_

_But nothing you say's gonna change us."_

Next would come a small lecture on growing up and being a little more serious. How he should be fair about this and not put it on anyone else – he had his fair share of mistakes, too. Gaara felt his fists tightened, squeezing his iPod harder, at the thought of being compared to any of the despicable monsters in this house.

"_You can sit there and judge me,_

_Say what you want to,_

_We'll never let you in."_

And then would come the usual talk Gaara had to go through more than the usual kid. She would talk about how they were moving, and he would have to try to make the best of it, be who he knew he should be. Gaara snorted, a small growl-like sound erupting from his throat. She could not tell him to try to do anything. He should not be anything. He was himself. That was it. If no one else loved him, oh well. He could just love himself. The "talk" was not his favorite time of the year, but Gaara had it at least three times ever twelve months, and it was not about puberty or hormones. No, someone would die for speaking to him about something as unimportant as that.

"_I'm a nightmare,_

_A disaster._

_That's what they always said._

_I'm a lost cause,_

_Not a hero._

_But I'll make it on my own._

_Me against the world."_

He had stop counting after hearing it fourteen times and it was the same thing every time.

"_I'm a nightmare,_

_A disaster._

_That's what they always said._

_I'm a lost cause,_

_Not a hero._

_But I'll make it on my own."_

The difficulties of moving with Gaara.

"_I've gotta prove them wrong."_

Again.

"_They'll never bring us down."_

And again.

"_We'll never fall in line."_

And again.

"_I'll make it on my own."_

And again.

"_Me against the world."_

The knock came at the perfect time.

Rolling his eyes with an irritated sound similar to a dog's snarl, he turned his iPod off and moved away from the window seat. His hand grasped the handle and he yanked it open firmly, surprised teal eyes meeting his in the hallway.

"What?" he hissed, glaring at his older sister. She looked almost scared by the way she held her posture.

"Can I come in for a minute?" she asked, and Gaara glowered.

"No," he said, crossing his arms. "Hurry up and you should be fine out there."

She hesitated, and he took the opportunity to slam the door in her face, or at least try to. He twisted his face in rage when she caught it and gave him an apologetic look.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said, and then hurried to explain. "We didn't mean to keep anything from you. I was going to come tell you as soon as we were done, and I'm sorry about Kankuro. What he said was awful."

"You know I'm used to it," Gaara sneered, and attempted to shut the door again. "Get out of my way!"

"Please calm down," Temari pleaded, offering a hopeful smile. He glared at her once more before swinging the door open and shoving her back into the hallway. She stumbled back a little before sighing and saying, "Gaara, please grow up!"

"Take your own advice," Gaara suggested, slamming the door shut with a bang. She persisted, though, shouting through the door.

"You know you shouldn't be acting like this!" she scolded. "This is completely unacceptable, and if you don't at least _try_ to help out a little, then you're going to grow up old and lonely."

"So I'll be old," Gaara snarled back. "That's one difference. Not so much of a loss."

"Stop acting like that!" Temari yelled, kicking the door in pure frustration. "You're being selfish and spoiled! Start acting your age! At least try for ten! I know a lot of people don't treat you right, but that doesn't mean you can be a total jerk to us, too! We're your family, so be a part of it and stop feeling sorry for yourself!"

"Go away before I hurt you," Gaara warned angrily, locking his door and receding back to his window. He turned up the volume before she could say anything else.

* * *

**CAPE CARTERET, NORTH CAROLINA – 5:45 P.M. – SEPT. 14, FRI.**

* * *

The words still burned in her mind, not for their meaning, but for the fact that she had not been the one to say them. Streaks of dried tears stained her flushed cheeks, the skin around her eyes and lips puffy and swollen. A small hiccupping noise rocketed through her, triggering that part of her that wanted to bawl her eyes out, though she had been doing so for the past hour. He was absolutely heartless; how could he do this to her?

_Why_ would he do something so absurd and undeniably dumb? Was she not good enough for his stupid, mindless perfection? What a _jerk_!

The knock on her door awakened her from her inner ranting, and she wiped her nose sloppily with the back of her hand as she stumbled away from the couch. Opening the door, Ino found herself looking into two pairs of eyes – one a deep chocolate brown, the other a bright emerald green. Her bottom lip trembled once at the sight of her two best friends, and her façade crumbled immediately. Face contorting with the pain inside her, she nearly collapsed in a tiny ball of tears in the doorway.

"He broke up with me!" she wailed miserably, falling limp even as two pairs of strong arms pulled her back to the couch. When they reached the soft, leather cushions, they let her fall into a pile of sorrow and self-pity, as usual.

"We're so sorry," Tenten said, stroking the back of her head momentarily before moving away as if she had thought of something. Sakura on the other hand wasted no time trying to comfort Ino, moving immediately to what she knew would cure her broken ego.

"He wasn't a good boyfriend anyway," she said, nodding in confirmation.

"Really, I don't even know what you saw in that guy," Tenten said, shaking her head and handing her a box of tissues. Ino took them gratefully, blowing her nose seconds later.

"But_ he_ broke up with _me_!" Ino shrieked, hitting her feeble fists on her knees repeatedly, letting out multiple whimpers of anguish. Why did they not understand? How could they be so dense? "Don't you get it? How could he possibly do that? It's _not fair_!"

"Oh…" Sakura seemed at a loss for words, and when she glanced to Tenten for help, Ino saw her shrug hopelessly. "Maybe it was just a trick…"

"No!" Ino yelled, shaking her head furiously. Her usually glorious blonde hair was now an untidy mess of tangles and frizz as it bobbed around her head. Tenten skillfully swiped a strand of it away from her face so it would not stick to the tears wetting her face and clipped it back for her. "Why would he break up with me at all?"

"I don't know…"

"Maybe he thought he was holding you back or something…?" Tenten's guess was immediately shot down by an angry glare from Sakura, whose look told her to definitely keep her suggestions to herself. Ino felt a giggle rise inside her, especially when an evil gleam lit up Tenten's dark brown eyes. "If you want, I could ask Nej-Nej to go kick his ass for you. You know he would if I told him to, and can you imagine the look on that loser's face when his head ends up in a toilet just for breaking up with you?"

Before Ino could find the words to respond, Sakura had doubled over in a fit of insane laughter, clutching her sides so hard she had to collapse on the couch beside her blonde friend so she would not fall to the floor. Not able to help herself, Ino also began to giggle, small hiccups that quickly became hysterics as crazy as Sakura's. Soon, all three of them were laughing loudly, holding onto each other for dear life as if they could die of it. After a couple of minutes, Ino was able to sit up and look at Tenten disbelievingly.

"Does he let you call him that?" she asked, using her thumb to swipe at the tears of laughter that had sprung to her eyes.

"Nej-Nej?" Sakura repeated, and when more giggles erupted from her throat, she grinned and covered her mouth with a pillow to stifle the sound.

"Of course," Tenten said with a proud look of triumph in her smile. "I've got him wrapped around my little finger. I could call him whatever I wanted and he'd let me get away with it. Plus, I think it symbolizes our relationship. You know…Tenten…Nej-Nej… It's fitting."

"Somehow I doubt he agrees," Ino scoffed, shaking her head and pulling her feet up under her in a cross-legged position. It was easy to forget about her issues with her best friends around.

"But you are right," Sakura said with a taunting smirk that Ino knew Tenten would hate, "It symbolizes a whole lot more then you know."

"Whatever," Tenten snorted. She threw a pillow at Sakura, who squeaked and ducked behind Ino. It hit her in the side of the head, and she sent merely a half-hearted glare at Tenten – normally, the brunette would have gotten an earful for messing up her hair…but Ino decided that it really didn't matter today.

"Cut it out, guys," she murmured with a crooked smile, nudging a vase on the glass coffee table in front of her with her manicured finger. "Remember when we almost broke that one-of-a-kind sculpture from Italy my dad got on his fourth anniversary with my mom?"

"Dude, he would've flipped so bad," Sakura said, eyes going wide in muted horror. "No joke."

"Well, what do you say?" Tenten said, reverting back to the most important subject at hand. "Need me to call Neji up and see if he'll help out? Straighten out Mister Too-Good-For-Anyone so he knows his place?"

"Come on, Ino," Sakura said, giving her an encouraging look. "It would be fun to see him the next day. He's a loser and he should–"

"Stay a loser," Ino finished for her, and both friends exchanged an uneasy glance at the sly grin that broke out on her face.

Both Tenten and Sakura watched as Ino lifted herself from the couch and stumbled over to her purse, lacking the normal grace she always possessed on her better days. She unzipped the top of her Prada bag and pushed some of the items inside around for a bit before pulling out a rhinestone-covered cell phone. Flipping it open, Ino quickly found the number she needed and gave the digits a smirk.

"Oh yeah," Ino said with a small nod. She pressed the send button and put it to her ear, hugging herself and blocking out everything but the heavenly sounds of ringing on the other line. "That freak is going to wish he'd never even asked me out. He'll go through hell before I can even get to him."

* * *

**RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA – 11:23 P.M. – SEPT. 14, FRI.**

* * *

Gaara had lost count of the hours they had been traveling by the time they stumbled off the plane and piled into the cab waiting for them at the airport in America. His iPod had long since been dead and Kankuro had been snoring for the past hour, hardly a distracting feature when compared to the anxious way his uncle would not stop looking at him. There were moments he wished he could just blow his own brains out, or better yet Yashamaru's, but he held it all in, expression blank and his posture limp. It had been a while since he had found it impossible to sleep, but the fact that just a few days ago he had been on the other side of the world made his insomnia come back to haunt him.

With nothing better to do, he watched what was going on outside, taking in the sights as best as he could through a vision blurred with anxiety and tiredness. Buildings of solid brick and concrete lined the streets in varying sizes and markets – bigger than Cairo yet smaller than Rome. People who dotted the sidewalks were dressed in everything from tourist attire to skimpy fishnets and rags for clothing, ranging from geek to slut in just a couple of feet.

America was a strange country.

For one, everyone here drove cars, which he supposed was not too bad if it were not for the fact that half of the population could not drive to save their lives - literally. Four times already, drunken teenagers and old men about to fall asleep had caused moments of high tension, swerving out of control along the highway. In Japan, most people just rode bikes to where they needed to go. In India, the barefooted, calloused feet of the marketplaces and towns filled the streets more than the hand-pulled carts did. Those in Egypt hardly fathomed the luxuries of having cars of their very own to drive.

Hence the lack of fat people in the east, whereas in America…

Even in the more suave countries, like Italy or Spain, cars and high-priced gas was not an issue. Mopeds were more common than anything on four wheels, and walking had never been a problem for any of those people. America was lazy. And stupid.

Why would anyone with brains run out in the middle of a four-lane highway intersection in the hopes of getting to the other side without being run over by the big ass sixteen-wheeler blaring their horn ten feet away?

Or, as Gaara had witnessed, pull up their shirt on the side of the rode to distract the hundreds of full-grown, married men trying to get home to their families in the hopes of making a little dishonest cash?

How fucking annoying.

"Stop looking so gloomy," Yashamaru scolded lightly, but Gaara turned his hate-rays to full power for his uncle, the most despised member of the family now. "I'm sure you'll like America. People say it's a good country."

"People also say dreams come true," Gaara growled, and Temari snickered at his side.

"Oh hush," Yashamaru sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Stop being so dramatic. It won't be that bad."

"No one sees you celebrating," Temari pointed out, crossing her arms with a huff and falling back into her seat. She shifted to get into a more comfortable position and failed with a long, slow sigh.

"Watch it, Temari," Yashamaru warned, but Temari only stuck her tongue out at him with a tiny shake of her head. "You all need to be on your best behavior. One of these days, someone isn't going to want to put up with it."

"Sure," Gaara breathed.

"Whatever," Temari snorted.

"What?" Kankuro started in his seat, blinking his eyes awake. Gaara ignored him while Temari gave him a look asking what the hell his problem was, a smack in the head a bonus.

"Why don't you listen to some music or something?" Yashamaru suggested.

"My iPod is dead," Gaara retorted with a glare.

"How can an iPod be 'dead'?" Kankuro asked, cocking his head to the side in serious contemplation. Yashamaru blinked a couple of times before realizing his nephew was not kidding, just as Temari shifted to hit him in the head again.

"The battery, stupid!" she yelled, and he cringed away from her.

"No hitting, Temari," Yashamaru scolded, but Temari only sneered.

"I'm not in third grade, Yashamaru," she reminded him, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Stop treating me like a kid."

"You_ are_ a kid," he shot back, eyes narrowing. "Now stop fighting and behave, why don't you? You know Kankuro isn't the brightest, so leave him be."

"What's _that_ mean?" Kankuro shrieked, tensing in his seat. Temari crossed her arms and huffed, looking out the window with an arrogant air about her.

"It's common sense," Gaara commented lowly, reveling in the angry glare he got from both Kankuro and Yashamaru.

"Shut up, Gaara!" Kankuro yelled, only to be hit once more by Temari.

"Don't tell him what to do!" she screamed, and he glared, rubbing his head.

"What was that for?" he questioned angrily, fist clenching.

"She just told you," Gaara muttered, turning away from his brother.

"Oh, really?" he said, and was answered by both in a taunting unison of voices. "Then what was it for?"

"Bossing Gaara around!" Temari said with an infuriated sigh – the top of her fist knocked against Kankuro's head again.

"Stop hitting me, damn it!"

"Stop telling me what to do," Gaara said simply.

"Did I tell you what to do that time?" he asked, and Gaara raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think so! So what was _that_ for?"

"Being stupid," Temari answered cheerfully, hitting him across the back with a falsely peppy smile – one that could blind crowds.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"_Shut up_!"

All three fell silent, gazes darting back to the fuming young man in the front seat – he was nearly turned all the way around to get a better look at them. The cab driver looked scared out of his mind, but he remained silent and kept on driving – Gaara almost hoped he would just crash and end all of their miserable lives… No…but crashing after they were dropped off might not be such a bad thing. He made a mental note to check in the paper for any car accidents tomorrow.

"Can't you get along for three minutes?" Yashamaru was saying, his face a glowing red beckon before Gaara. The color was beginning to irritate him.

In wordless retreat, he and his siblings fell silent against their wishes and merely turned away from each other – with Temari in between him and Kankuro, it was easier than usual. With nothing else to do – he couldn't murder Kankuro or listen to music – he hit the window's glass with his forehead and stared out at the streets. As the people flew by, one large building after another, time began to stretch further and further, and soon, they were moving away from the city. Near the city's edge, the cab driver pulled into a car rental store and let them go, gratefully accepting Yashamaru's nice tip and driving away, fast enough to get into a wreck… Gaara would have crossed his fingers had it been possible to make a difference.

Half an hour later they were on their way again – Temari in the driver's seat now and Yashamaru behind in the moving van – driving away from the bright lights of wherever they had just escaped from. Gaara was too bored to notice the hills they passed or the gently sloping fields. Everything was just a bit too plain for him to take notice in anything – as it normally was.

When he finally did come to his senses enough to take in his surroundings, they were pulling into a neighborhood – a nice one bordered by a fence with a nicely painted sign declaring it "Star Hill." Uninterested, he watched the many houses go by, the number of them decreasing as they went, the lots and buildings getting bigger and bigger. When Temari slowed and turned into a driveway, Gaara glanced up to see a three-story brick house, a sturdy looking building with what seemed to be a lot of history. From the looks of it, this part of the neighborhood was older – richer, but older – than the section near the highway.

Temari didn't bother pulling into the garage, instead parking in the driveway and turning the key in the ignition. Before the motor died, Gaara was out of the car and trudging up the perfect green slope – he hoped he killed the grass where he walked. It would make the house look more fitting for the four people living in it. He climbed up the front steps and tried the doorknob – it was locked.

He frowned before digging into his pocket, removing two bent out of shape paperclips. Skillfully he unfolded them both and stuck them in the keyhole, listening for the familiar click before pushing the large wooden door open and stepping inside. The front room was large and ornate, completely empty aside from the large chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling and the curving rosewood staircase in the corner.

Without much thought, he stalked to the stairs and moved up them slowly, not bothering to wipe his feet at the door or not scuff his boots against the polished wood. He reached the second landing and glanced around – would the perfect room be here or on the top floor? Making up his mind, he moved down the hall in search of another staircase but could find none. Frowning, Gaara let his gaze travel down the hall one last time…

There. In the white ceiling was a cut out, a piece of wood designed to be lifted from the rest of it – a trapdoor. An attic. He pulled a chair under the door and stepped on top of it, reaching up to push the piece of wood out of his way. With ease, he lifted himself up and looked around him.

It was certainly an attic, dark, large and empty, but when he took the five nicely sized windows into account, he figured it would be brighter in the day. The room actually seemed perfect for him, though he was not sure what he would end up doing with the excessive space – with a few more shelves, at least he would have room for all his c.d.s. His guitar could go there, and his bed there. He wondered vaguely how they _would_ get the bed in here, and then decided that it did not matter whether they could or not – he did not use it for anything.

Yes. This room was perfect – and it was his.

* * *

**CAPE CARTERET, NORTH CAROLINA – 4:10 A.M. – SEPT. 15, SAT.**

* * *

Temari set her bags down and looked around the entrance room, marveling in the grandness of such a house – were they not supposed to be in the suburban area or something? Shaking her head slightly, she moved through the room, away from her brother and uncle, and into the next room – a family room. In the southern corner was an ornate fireplace, but the rest of the room was stock empty, which left plenty of room for the couches, chairs, coffee table, grand piano, television, and whatnot.

The next room was a space with floor-to-ceiling windows, narrow and elegant with a chandelier – a dining room most likely. It had the perfect atmosphere of such, and Temari wished that her family could fit that sort of image. A kitchen could be seen through the open archway, and Temari gaped at the fullness of the room – multiple stoves, grills and built-in appliances that made her want to give cooking a try again. A fridge that looked like it reached so far back it touched the other room, counters and a bar. It was huge.

Through a glass back door in the kitchen she saw a patio, bright and lovely even in the night. In front of the porch-like structure was a ground pool, inviting despite the weather, and a shed in the back – she noticed the backyard was bordered by a fence that matched the look of the old-fashioned brick house, a large, an intricate koi pond not a couple feet away from that, in the shade of a willow.

The other two rooms included an office-type space for Yashamaru, large enough for all the clutter he usually kept, and a decent sized room with nothing by emptiness resonating from its walls. Temari knew she would think of something for the lonely-looking room.

Up the stairs were an assortment of empty rooms – ones that could be used as bedrooms or for other purposes. Temari began to wonder about those, too. Then there was the laundry room and what was obviously the master bedroom, plus the total of seven bathrooms in the entire house. It was pretty much bigger than the other houses they had lived in, and much more beautiful – in an antique sort of way.

When she went back to the entrance room, Yashamaru was gone, but Kankuro was setting down a couple of boxes from the moving van onto the ground. He glanced up at her when she approached him and she gave an apologetic smile – he scowled.

"No, you and Gaara just go and chill," he muttered sarcastically, straightening and stretching his back. "We got it."

"Sorry," she sighed, and then gave a more enthusiastic grin. "The house is absolutely amazing! I just had to check it out. Oh, and I call the room by the east side on the top floor!"

"Master bedroom?"

"Think Yashamaru will let me have it?"

"Doubt it."

"You know nothing."

"Gaara looking for his room, too?" Kankuro guessed and Temari frowned, realizing she had not found the grumpy redheaded boy.

"I don't know," she admitted and regarded his surprised expression before adding, "I couldn't find the stairs to the third floor either."

"Must be an attic," Kankuro said with a nod of confirmation.

"I guess," Temari said with a shrug. "But that doesn't tell us where Gaara is."

"You lost your brother?"

Temari and Kankuro both turned to look in the doorway at a frantic, wide-eyed Yashamaru. He nearly dropped the box he was holding in his shock, and Kankuro rushed over to grab it before it slipped from his loosening grip. As soon as his hands were free, his hands went to his hair, twirling the strands around his fingers in frustration.

"Do you know what will happen if Gaara gets out of our sight?" he asked, and Temari blinked when his eyes got just a fraction wider. "He'll go do something we'll all regret and then we will _have_ to move! Do you want that?"

Temari's eyes narrowed instinctively. Even if Gaara was prone to getting himself into trouble, Yashamaru was talking about him as if he were some rabid animal or something. What the hell kind of an uncle talking about his nephew like that? She opened her mouth, ready to voice her anger, but another one, rough and angry, interrupted her.

"Sorry to worry you," came the crudely sarcastic voice. Temari looked over his shoulder to see Gaara glowering menacingly past her, at Yashamaru – but she was sure he would be pissed at her, too. "I was upstairs."

"Third floor?" Temari guessed, and he gave a grim nod, eyes never moving off Yashamaru.

"Well, next time, you could help us unpack," Yashamaru said, skillfully changing the subject before Gaara could say anything else. "Actually, you can help us now."

"I thought you said there wasn't going to be a next time," Gaara said, throwing Yashamaru's promises back in his face – Temari nodded at Yashamaru, who looked stunned. "But whatever."

With that, Gaara grabbed the bags that were his off the floor and went back upstairs, fulfilling his part of the unpacking process with a couple easy steps. With a sad smirk and shake of her head, Temari pushed past her frozen uncle and moved to the van, followed by Kankuro.

Was this family ever going to get along? In a small moment of realization, Temari realized that the answer to that question was simple: no.

They would never be a family.

* * *

**CAPE CARTERET, NORTH CAROLINA – 8:31 A.M. – SEPT 15, SAT.**

* * *

The view was not _that_ bad.

It had taken Gaara a while to finally manage one of the windows open – it seemed as if nobody had been in the attic in a long time. He had not wanted to break the glass, so it took him three hours to budge one of the metal-framed circles of glass at the west end of the house. There had been a moment when he had contemplated trying to get the others open, too, but decided that was better left for a day of more patience, and today he was more anxious then ever – he needed the wind _now_.

After the window had opened, it had been easy to jump up on the sill and haul his body above it, climbing expertly to the top of the roof. There, he was able to see more green lawns and pristine houses than ever before, an expanse of baby blue flying overhead. No clouds broke the sky today, but the wind was light, a breeze that tickled his skin, playing with the short, unruly locks of his hair. He had taken a seat, resting his elbows on his bent knees, hunched forward just slightly in the rumpled clothes he had worn the day before – he had not felt like changing.

Gaara had not slept that night; he had not been able to. For some reason, darkness eluded him, so he took it as a sign to _do_ something. That was usually difficult for him, as he lacked the motivation to do anything, but he figured what with the new move, he could spare a couple hours unpacking or something – not to help anyone, of course, just to kill time.

Near midnight, he had crept downstairs and stole the keys to the padlock keeping the back of the moving van tightly shut. Then he had snuck out the parts of his bed and carried them upstairs, accustomed to the heavy weight falling against his body. Once all the pieces were in the attic, he assembled them together and moved on to the next task – his desk. After that was done, he went about arranging his c.d.s in order, something he had never bothered to do before – something about the house's hominess made him feel like giving at least a little bit of effort…as long as nobody could see him do it.

By the time Temari was up and getting dressed, he had already emptied half the boxes and put the contents precisely where they needed to go. There was no rush in his movement as he worked, only a bit of anxiety and curiousity as to why he felt the impulse to do such a thing in the first place.

Now, though, he let himself relax and take in the wind on his face. The tension dropped from his muscles, and his expression calmed to the point where it felt awkward not to have that ever-permanent scowl on his face. Having the sun rest warmly on his features was nice, even if it was not the moon. Maybe it would not be too bad living here…

For him at least.

He still had to find a way to get revenge on the others for using him, speaking of him in such a cruel, inhumane matter. What did he owe them to take that kind of shit from his own so-called family? There were so many possibilities to get some payback, especially on Kankuro.

The easiest was obvious: pick a fight with some rich kid at school. If he did that, then the deal Yashamaru had made with his siblings would immediately be broken and they would move soon, no doubt – at least in a few months. Then there was the thought of pretending to run away and making them all freak out, just as they had the night before when Yashamaru had thought Temari had "lost" him, as if he were a dog.

Of course, he could pull a huge prank. Nothing childish or stupid, but maybe he could light a classroom on fire or wreck havoc in the cafeteria – there were a thousand ways to do that. But then something occurred to Gaara as he thought over his choices, and he paused, frowning at the new notion in his mind.

He did not want to move again.

Even if it would be perfect payback, there was a part of him that kept whispering just how much he hated being uplifted time and time again. Moving meant he was just going to give others relief – by moving away – and have to suffer more by meeting new people who would treat him just the same. There was no "fresh start" or "redo" for Gaara; he had learned that long ago. Staying in one place was better.

Plus, Cape Carteret was not that bad of a place – the neighborhood was decent and quiet. He doubted there was a lot of noise here, and silence was one of the few things he valued. It got him out of that angry state, allowed him to actually be calm and think about things. Though being mad and careless all the time had its advantages, he was able to enjoy peace every now and then. Too much of it got on his nerves, but it was nice occasionally.

But then how could he take his revenge if he could not risk moving again?

He was not sure, but he _was_ positive that it did not matter what he thought. There was no doubt that he would be able to behave – just sit there, listen, do homework, come to school every day. It was not like he had anything better to do, and just being there was easy for him – he never got anxious or fidgety like other teenagers during school hours. However, if anyone did think of screwing with him, then his patience was like a bomb – when it wore out, everyone would know. Blood would be shed and he would be expelled – already, he had been kicked out of thirteen schools all over the world. Did he want to make that mistake again?

Who cared what he wanted? Nobody else did, so trying to have things his way was just a waste of time and affection that he did not have. What was the point in putting up with things such as love or hope or dreams when all they did was die? Rot? Gaara growled and slipped back down into his room.

Everything seemed to be in the right place – his bed in the shade, desk in the corner, shelves bordering the room lined with c.d.s, his guitar set up nicely, clean and polished… Just to spite how perfect it all looked, he swung his arm, knocking a collection of music to the ground. The cases clattered, but none of them broke when they hit the wooden floor. Gaara huffed and moved around the pile, towards the trap door. What would he do down there? Maybe he would eat or something – who cared?

Nobody.

* * *

**It's better, yes? By re-writing the chapter, I have made it more elaborate, and I will be combining a couple old chapters at a time so the new chapters will be longer. At least 8,000 words - around 20 pages on Microsoft Word. The plot will be relatively the same for those of you who liked the story originally - I just wanted to redo it for those readers who enjoy truly excellent work. I hope this meets your standards now - as I am aware it did not before. In this version, Gaara will hopefully be in character much, much more. That will be hard for me, but I'll try for my readers.**

**AnimeCountDown**


	2. America is a Strange Country

* * *

**EMERALD ISLE, NORTH CAROLINA – 7:04 P.M. – SEPT 16, SUN.**

* * *

Pale skin met hard concrete as Shigure's face was slammed into the nearest wall. He could feel the warm liquid-like substance run over his lip from his nose and forehead, tasting of copper and salt. The hand clutching his scalp pulled back again, tangling in his thick black hair – he winced the moment he was jerked away from the wall, only to be shoved against it for a second time. With a cry, he shuddered and felt the skin of his lip split against the rock, pain searing in his forehead and cheeks.

Frightened, he squirmed before clenching his hand into a fist and attempting to swing around. Strong, calloused fingers clasped his forearm before he could make contact, and a scream bit at his throat when it was twisted harshly behind his back. Shigure was able to hold in the yell until his limb was slowly pushed upward, higher and higher until his own fingers brushed the back of his neck, silky locks at his tips. The hand on his head increased the pressure, making his face rub as hard as it could against the wall – blood spilled from the cracks in his lip.

"Having fun yet, Shigure?" a husky voice mocked in his ear.

Before he could think of a response, he was yanked from the unsmooth surface of the wall and spun around. Shigure blinked once before something – a knee – jabbed hard into his abdomen. Immediately, he doubled over with a choked cry as the he clutched at the pain in his stomach, the noise slipping in the pools of blood gathering within his mouth. The knee dropped to the ground as Shigure hunched, and his eyes bulged when an elbow fell hard on the ridge of his spine – a tiny crack echoed as the bones shifted unnaturally beneath his skin.

"No?" the voice hissed again, sounding more familiar now…angrier… "Well, we should fix that then, shouldn't we?"

Shigure yelped when the rough skin of a palm came down sharply on the back of his neck, and shutting his eyes tightly, he collapsed to the ground, trembling. Hurting and humiliated, he attempted to get up, to fight back, but his muscles would not cooperate. They just quivered inside him, unresponsive and dead. Oh, how he wished he were dead right now.

In his peripheral vision, he caught a glimpse of light and found he was capable of raising his head just a little… The opening of the alleyway looked like the gates of heaven, and he let out a pathetic grunt as he fought to his hands and knees. The thought of escape gave him strength… As soon as he could, he scrambled for freedom, nails breaking as they dug into the ground, breath gasping from his lips unevenly. Laughter made the tears of embarrassment spring to his eyes; he could not ignore them… Pain – his right eye twitched when his right hip cramped, leaving him vulnerable to the next attack.

"Oh, don't leave so soon!" A foot connected with his back, making him howl in pain as it arched beneath the heavy weight. "I'm enjoying this!"

A knee dropped down to his neck, and his elbows threatened to buckle, but Shigure refused to let this barbarian have his way! Stubbornly, he locked his arms and did his best not to tremble under the man kneeling on his back…damn was he heavy. Fingers snared in his hair again, claw-like nails breaking the tight skin of his scalp as he jerked it up again – he felt lips at his ear again, teasing, taunting…

"So…" He sounded so casual…Shigure grimaced. "I suppose we should get to the bottom of this, huh? You know why you're here, then? Huh, buddy? Do you?"

"N-no…" Shigure stuttered, forcing the instinctive tears away from his eyes. He could _not_ cry in front of these monsters.

"I didn't think so," came the quick, irritated reply. Then another question was whispered to him, "Do you even know who I am, Shigure?"

"No…" he repeated, gaining control of the small stutter in his voice now as he bared his teeth together. There was no way he would be able to identify this man with only a voice…if he could see his face…

"Hmph." Shigure heard the disappointment in the tiny growl above him, how it made the others laugh out loud, knowing it would result in more punishment. "Fine. Have it your way. Be in denial. I mean, I don't think Akamaru here really cares if you don't want to remember your favorite gym partner."

With that, Shigure was pulled to his knees roughly, and before he could put up a struggle, his eyes caught sight of the most terrifying thing he had ever seen in his life. Horrified, he could only try to move away from it, but he was forced to stay still, black orbs wide and full of fear.

"Remember me now?"

Before Shigure was the largest dog he had seen in his entire life – bigger than a full-grown mastiff. Off-white fur bristled in apparent fury from his neck to his tail, large black lips pulled back and raised to reveal long, sharp fangs glistening with saliva. Muscles bulged beneath the fur, trembling with anticipation of the action it was yearning for in its aggression and anger. Shigure realized that a two hundred pound man could probably ride on its back it was so huge…despite the fact that it seemed to be snarling at everything it saw.

And then shock entered his body and he grew rigid when he saw the man holding tightly to the chain leash, keeping the animal back. Damn, he was almost as scary as the dog – a black omen of death: pale skin, black hair and cold onyx eyes that gleamed in sick amusement at his pain.

"S-s-s-s…" He could not get the name out, or anything else for that matter.

"Having trouble?" the voice teased, and Shigure's eyes widened further – yeah, _now_ he did not have any trouble recognizing the voice.

"Kiba…" he whispered, and a pleased chuckle rang in his ear.

"Bingo," Kiba hissed, and Shigure saw him gesture to their surroundings. "And I'm sure you know my good friend Sasuke, don't you?" He laughed again. "By the looks of your face, I'd say you do. Oh, and of course there's Naruto, and Neji over here. Yep…you know them, too. _But_…" He paused then, and moved so Shigure could just barely see his face as he pointed to the monster snarling at him. "You don't know him, do you?"

Without thinking, Shigure shook his head, refusing to let the tears or screams out – he could not help the trembling, but he kept everything else down… Not in front of these people.

"Well," Kiba began, and finally moved away from Shigure. He almost fell to his hands, but merely let his body slump were it was without moving from his kneeling position. "This here is Akamaru – my best friend ever, I'll have you know. We do everything together, really…and that includes kicking your sorry ass, and we enjoy it, too. So, I think you're getting the picture here – hurt any of my friends again, and I won't be so merciful."

Kiba grinned at him, stroking the colossal head of the dog, whose growls had not ceased ever since Shigure had noticed it. He saw Kiba loop one finger around the chain collar and tug at it in suggestion – he felt his own eyes triple in size.

"You wouldn't…" he gasped, and saw Kiba's eyebrows rise in surprise at the claim.

"Oh, really?" he asked, and then smirked, striding over to him. He squatted in front of him, and Shigure's eyes widened when Kiba grinned and waved a blade in front of his face. "Neji? Naruto?"

Before he could make a move, arms were locked around all of his limbs, his neck, and then something hit his pressure points…seven of them. He winced at the spontaneous new pain, muscles not responding to his thoughts.

"Thank you," Kiba said with a smirk, and then raised the blade. Shigure shivered when the cool tip touched the spot below his right eyebrow, wanting to move…wanting to run…but he could not. Then he realized what Kiba was going to do. "Did you know that Akamaru's claws are twice as sharp as this knife?"

Slowly, the blade pressed into his skin. The skin sliced open, and Shigure opened his mouth to let out the loudest scream – but a hand covered it immediately.

"His fangs are about five times sharper than that…" Kiba continued, and Shigure forced himself to shut his eyes as Kiba dragged the knife slowly downward, over his eyelid gently…but forceful enough to draw blood. He let it slide down his skin, half way down his cheek, and then he hesitated. "And Akamaru's appetite…well, let's just say _you don't want to know_."

And then the knife was no longer on his skin, and he opened his left eye. Shigure was not sure what would happen if he opened his right, so he let it stay closed – it was easier than he expected. He watched as Kiba went to stand by Akamaru, spun and stared at him for a moment.

"Get it?"

"Y-yeah."

"Good," Kiba said with a satisfied grin, and then wrinkled his nose, throwing a hand toward the entrance. "You can leave if you want."

The boy made a short whistle and at once, Akamaru stopped growling, a calm air coming about him all at once. He sat and just stared at Shigure. For a moment, there was nothing but silence – and then Shigure was up and running…or attempting to. His legs hurt too much, and his muscles could only drag him along, limping helplessly out of the alleyway and down the sidewalk. There was nothing he could do to block out the laughter coming from the alley, and then one voice rang out above the rest.

"And Ino sends her best wishes!"

* * *

**NEWPORT, NORTH CAROLINA – 7:28 A.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

Gaara scanned the his class schedule for the first time since he had gotten it:

* * *

**Homeroom – Hatake, Kakashi: Room 156**

** Period 1 – Latin; Yakushi, Kabuto: Room 403 **

**Period 2 – World History; Ebisu: Room 416 **

**Free Period – First**

**Period 3 – Concert Band; Uzuki, Yugao: Room 237**

**Lunch – Second **

**Period 4 – Algebra; Hagane, Kotetsu: Room 370**

* * *

Each class was an hour and a half: ninety minutes sitting in the same seat, listening to the teacher drone on about absolutely nothing. Free period would be a total waste of time – what the hell was he supposed to do at _school_ without a class? Lunch was pretty pointless – it was not like he ate or anything.

Gaara suppressed a sigh and stuffed the piece of paper in his black dress pants, which he tugged at with an uplifted nose again. They were so…_clean_. He shuddered and shifted his arms so the white, semi-formal sleeves covered his wrists again. This uniform was going to kill him before the classes could, and the tie was just _too_ much. He had refused to wear the black jacket Kankuro was currently scratching at. Temari was lucky – she only had to wear the skirt and blouse, neither of which things she had a problem with.

He was beginning to wonder vaguely how he would find his classes, when they turned off the highway and into the school parking lot.

The building was not that big, but it was decently funded, at least. That much was obvious. Everything about it screamed "rich kid" and the infuriating uniforms only made it worse. Gaara grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder before the car stopped, blocking out Yashamaru's encouraging voice. A part of him hoped Temari would drive them from now on – he did not want anything to do with his uncle anymore.

Or maybe he would get lucky and have a heart attack right then.

He waited for a couple moments and then decided there was no use hoping.

As soon as the car came to a stop in front of the school, he swung the door open and stepped out, slamming it shut before Yashamaru could scold him. With an ungraceful step, he walked around the car and began to stalk towards the school, noticing a couple seconds later just how much attention he was attracting by moving the way he did – hunched over in anger, shadowed eyes narrow and dead… What would it be like to strangle them, these new classmates of his? Smash their faces in until they choked on their own blood. His fingers twitched at the thought and he curled them tightly at his sides, pausing with a loud exhale as he shut his eyes. Patience. Calm.

"Okay guys," Temari said with fake enthusiasm as Yashamaru drove away – she was trying to raise their spirits. Gaara wanted to hit her, too. "This is it…ready?"

"As we'll ever be," Gaara grumbled and opened his eyes to look at her. The apologetic smile she gave him made his anger cool, and he let her speak.

"Don't worry," she said, as if she had read his mind. "I'll drive tomorrow, if it helps."

"What about me?" Kankuro snorted, and Temari sent him a confused look, tilting her head.

"What about you?" she asked, and he sighed.

"Can't I drive?"

"Oh, of course not," she said with a small chuckle, as if the question were silly and the answer obvious, and without another word, she swept toward the front door. Kankuro blinked and then chased after her with a range of vocabulary Gaara hoped got him shot one day.

He followed almost obediently, sending death glares at whoever looked at him for more than three seconds. There was an uncertain pause when they stepped into the air-conditioned building, and he glanced at his siblings – both were watching him warily.

"Will you be okay finding your classes?" Temari asked, and he frowned.

"Yeah."

Not waiting for them to say anything else, he turned his back to them and moved down the hall, dragging his feet against the sleek surface of the floor. Kankuro said something, but he could not hear what it was. He did not care. With a heavy sigh, he pulled out his schedule and stared at it as he walked, glancing up at the doors and their numbers, turning the corner slowly.

Just as somebody came around the other side.

"Watch it," he growled, pushing his arms forward instinctively. His palms came into contact with a hard chest, which immediately fell back at his attack.

"Woah, chill, why don't you?"

Gaara let his hands fall, glaring forward at the accusing blue eyes crackling before him. He blinked once, and Gaara felt a fraction of his anger fade as he stared into the familiar twinkling azure. And then he focused on the rest of his face: tan skin, yellow – not blonde – hair, and whiskers. Wait – Gaara blinked again and did a double take, his expression hardening as confusion entered, accompanied by irritation. Yep, those were definitely whiskers.

"What's your problem, huh?" the boy snapped, and Gaara felt his anger flare – who did this kid think he was? "It was just an accident. Don't freak out, 'kay?"

"Don't get in my way," he retorted, hands fisting without him thinking.

"I wasn't trying to get in your way," the blonde snarled, and Gaara's fury peaked at his defiance, his unwillingness to submit to his dominance.

"Then try harder," he suggested, straightening a little. The muscles in his arms twitched a little in anticipation…this kid was going to get it.

"Maybe you should take your own advice!" the other shouted, and Gaara gritted his teeth together, lines of anger crossing his face. In a second his fist was pulled back, ready to snap forward and break that perfect nose…

And then he could not.

Shock played on his face when the blonde threw his head back, spiky tufts of hair ruffling as he burst into loud laughter. Gaara blinked a little, his muscles going limp in his confusion. Huh? And then he was angry again. What the hell was this kid laughing at? Did he think he was _funny_? Oh, that was _it_. He tightened his fist again, scowling…but the boy caught the gesture and held his hands up in surrender. Gaara hesitated, not sure whether to hit him or not, and then not sure why he was asking himself in the first place.

"Dude, my bad!" the kid laughed, shaking his head and leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees. He twisted his head to look up at Gaara with a close-eyed grin. "No offense meant, all right? Just chill!"

Just…chill… Gaara bared his teeth and summoned his anger again. This stranger was laughing at him, defying him! He was _happy_! Nobody had the right to be amused by his actions or feelings. The blonde had made a mistake by running into him, and now he was going to pay for not being sorry.

"Fuck you," he hissed, and threw his fist forward just as the blonde stood.

His knuckles came into contact with alabaster skin, and his eyes widened in surprise when fingers tightened around his hand. Coal eyes filled with hatred sparked at his hesitance, and then he was being pushed back, away from the stunned blonde.

"Maybe another day."

The voice was cold…smooth and sleek, like ice. Gaara stared in fascination at the young man who had stood up to him, fought back without being invited. As he looked into orbs of bottomless fury and anger, things he was so used to…he felt threatened. This kid was…was…_meaner_ than he was!

Black and white: soft raven locks that spiked in the back, fell around his face in long strands; skin as white as chalk, the flawless stone of marble; eyes of the darkest night, enraged; silver spikes surrounding his neck, his wrists, bands holding tightly to his muscles.

Gaara blinked again.

"You have something to say?" the raven-haired boy asked, voice loud and dominant…more intimidating than the gravely sound of Gaara's. "If you do, don't waste my time. Spit it out."

Gaara found no words. Anger began to fill him again. But he could not speak.

"Didn't think so," the boy scoffed, shaking his head in disgust. "Screw off. Come on, Naruto. We'll be late again if you don't hurry up."

"Asshole!" the blonde growled, pouting immaturely as he moved to follow his friend – Gaara fumed at the word – down the hall. "I could have done that, no problem!"

"If I hadn't of done anything, you'd be in the nurse's office," the other stated calmly, and Gaara saw no anger in his eyes anymore…only emptiness, and a spark of amusement. "Shut up and walk, loser."

Gaara was left staring after them, speechless and confused.

And furious.

* * *

**NEWPORT, NORTH CAROLINA – 7:38 A.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

Temari walked with Kankuro away from the front doors in deep thought. There was doubt in her wonderings, but…Gaara had seemed a little more…she winced as she thought the word, _human_. He had not thrown a fit since they had announced they would be moving to America, and now that they were actually here, she had been on edge, waiting for him to do _something_ to screw everything up.

She felt guilty for actually expecting her youngest brother to do something bad, but it was not unlikely that he would, and not accidentally either. There was no way he would not hold a grudge for the slightest thing, and to spite them, he was going to try to mess up, just for them.

Sighing, she reached up to twirl her single ponytail around her finger. She could not deny how she felt about the promise Yashamaru had made. It was nice being able to know that she would not have to move again, and since it was her senior year… Okay, she was thrilled, but who would not be? Since she was three, she had moved around more than the average army brat – she could hardly remember all the times they had, and to where. They had not been able to move before the school year, of course, but now that they were here…

She wanted to start _her_ new year with a bang. But how could she do that when she was afraid Gaara might be sneaking handmade bombs into the boys' bathroom? They had learned not to put it past him – he had been expelled for it before…in Tokyo maybe…no…Barcelona? Shoulders slumping, she felt herself deflate – god, how was she supposed to focus on anything when _Gaara_ was somewhere _out_ of her sight?

"Worried about Gaara?" Kankuro guessed, and she glanced up in a moment of surprise before sighing a second time and looking back down at the ground with a nod. "Don't, okay? I mean, most of our classes are on the other side of the building, so if he does anything _really_ big…"

"Would you knock it off?" she said, glaring at the grin accompanying his short chuckle. "He's not a criminal!"

"He figured out how to rewire a car so it exploded when you turned the key in the ignition when he was seven," Kankuro said seriously, blinking twice at her.

"Shut up," she muttered weakly, remembering the evil experiments Gaara had taken a liking to in Russia. Thankfully, he had _also_ discovered how to turn the key without being in the driver's seat, and nobody had been hurt… Gaara was certainly not stupid. "It's not like he's done anything yet."

"Oh, come on!" Kankuro said, seeing past her hesitance. She _tried_ to defend Gaara, but it was so hard sometimes! "You were just as scared as I was when you got on that plane!"

"I was not!" she snapped, hitting him in the chest hard. He jerked a little, coughing to fill his lungs again, and he glared at her.

"Whatever," he scoffed, and then shook his head. "Still, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"What makes you think that?" she asked curiously, and tilted her head.

"I don't know," he admitted with a shrug. "You know I'm not really religious or spiritual or anything…but there's just _something_ about this school that's different. I think it's going to change him."

"The…school?" Temari repeated skeptically, and tried to remember just how much Kankuro relied on fact to justify everything he said. It was difficult considering how stupid he sounded. "Are you kidding?"

"I don't know," he said again with a shake of his head. "Forget it. Just calm down, okay? Hey, who do you have for homeroom?"

"Way to change the subject," Temari commented, and then reached in her _bag_ for her schedule – purses were for whores. "Um…Ms. Mitarashi. You?"

"Mr. Baki," Kankuro snickered as he looked at the paper in his hands. Temari raised an eyebrow at him, but admitted reluctantly that the name was _kind_ of funny.

"Oh, he is _cute_," Temari suddenly exclaimed quietly, eyes flashing in delight.

"Yeah, _now_ who's changing the subject?" Kankuro asked, but Temari hit him squarely in the chest again.

"Shut up," she commanded, and Kankuro obeyed with a snort. "See that guy over there with the brown hair and the bandana?"

"Yeah, I see him," Kankuro said, shrugging with obvious disinterest. "What about him?"

"Don't you think he's hot?" she asked with a dreamy look that made him wrinkle his nose.

"What?" he asked, and grimaced. "No! Why the hell would I think that?"

"Because he is…" she hissed, and then quickly switched to her flirty side.

Her teal eyes softened slightly around the edges to the point where she looked seductively inviting when she looked up through her lashes, eyelids fluttering. One foot directly in front of the other as she walked, just like a model. Chest out just an inch more than usual, neck tilted back only a bit to reveal more of her perfect skin. As she moved past him, her fingers brushed just lightly against the fabric of his clothing, just enough to create a smidge of friction below his waist.

The entire while, he stayed calm, not moving from his position: arms crossed, chin lifted with authority. But there was no doubt that she caught his eye, and she found herself able to keep her blush under control at the intense gaze he gave her. He did not move an inch, but his eyes followed her, interest flashing in his dark eyes. Oh, and he looked _very_ interested.

She relaxed as soon as she was behind him, moving with her normal tomboyish grace and attitude. But not a couple seconds later, she heard skin hit fabric, and a small, "ow" soon after. Curious, she glanced over her shoulder at the guy just as Kankuro did, noticing for the first time the man standing beside him – they were glaring at each other, the hotter one only half-heartedly, almost as if abashed.

"Cut it out," the spiky-haired one muttered with a shake of his head, and Temari watched the hot one roll his eyes exaggeratedly. It earned him another punch in the arm. "Stop being so stupid."

"Whatever," he scoffed, and turned away to just stand there again.

Temari giggled before turning around, walking a little more confidently than before. She saw Kankuro glance at her questioningly, and she grinned.

"What are so happy about?" he asked, and she sighed at his naivety.

"He's jealous," she explained quickly, looking pleased. "Duh."

"Of who?" Kankuro laughed, and then jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Girly-boy or you?"

"Oh, shut up and get to class!"

* * *

**NEWPORT, NORTH CAROLINA – 7:46 A.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

Gaara was still pissed when he finally found his homeroom.

Who did these people think they were? Did they possibly think they were better than he was? Stronger? Oh, he would have to show them, too. He would start by finding out their locker combination and food allergies. Of course, the fact that both the blonde and black-haired boy was in the classroom he stepped into scattered all coherent thoughts.

Deciding to just ignore them and the looks they sent him, Gaara moved past them and took the seat furthest from them despite the attention he drew for it. When he turned to take his seat, he discovered he was no longer alone. He glared down into eyes of baby blue, twinkling and playful.

"Hey there."

Gaara's gaze did not relent, but the peppy blonde girl did not seem to get the hint. She suddenly reminded him of one of the girls who had been flashing drivers on the highway in the city…

"What's your name?" she asked, and when he did not answer, she pouted. "Come on, don't be shy."

Without uttering a sound, Gaara sat in the seat dropping his bag to the ground. The girl took the opportunity to hop up on the desk and lean back, attempting to draw his attention to her cleavage. Unfortunately for her, Temari had a whole lot more to show. Gaara was definitely immune to those types of hormones. Oh well.

"Don't you have something better to do?" he growled, lowering his voice naturally in his irritation. Again, she seemed denser than Kankuro.

"Actually, I'm sorry to say I don't," she said, sticking out her bottom lip and pretending to look pathetic. Oh yeah, sure. "My loser boyfriend just broke up with me, and I'm still trying to get over it… Of course, volunteers are more than welcome to help."

"Welcome them elsewhere," he hissed. "I'm not interested.

"At all?" she asked with a falsely innocent smile.

"No," he answered, and her eye twitched in annoyance. She quickly gathered her composure, though, raising a hand toward him…

"Sure?"

"Don't touch me."

She paused, long fingers stopping midair not three inches from his cheek. Gaara glowered at her menacingly, and she drew her hand away in surprise and confusion, shying away at the fury he emanated. A hurt expression crossed her face and she scooted off his desk, moving back to her group of friends. She slumped in her seat, ignoring the comforting words her friends tried to shower her with. She looked about ready to cry. Gaara hoped she drowned in her tears if she did.

"Nice."

He glanced to his right to see who had commented, the voice muffled by clothing. There was no emotion in his face as the dark-haired boy yawned and sat up with a tiny approving smile. Gaara hesitated, his blood chilling at the sight of somebody complimenting him in the slightest.

"Nobody's done that since second grade," the boy drawled lazily, stretching somewhat like a cat. "You must have a lot of guts."

"Why would I be scared of that?" he asked, not sure why he was responding to this stranger…maybe he would say something else…_good_ about _him_. Gaara had thought it was impossible…

"That?" the boy repeated with a raised eyebrow, and then he chuckled lightly. "I was right – you _are_ brave. It's not Ino you should be worried about, but Kiba."

"Kiba?"

"Yeah," he said, and then leaned forward on his desk, gesturing with a nod toward the two boys Gaara had encountered in the hall – Naruto, and the raven-haired boy. "See the freaky one? _That's_ Kiba."

Immediately, Gaara could tell whom the boy was talking about. Mutely angry brown eyes met his as soon as he turned his gaze, markings of red streaking down his cheeks. Dark brown hair spiked up in soft-looking tufts, but the narrow set of his eyes took away from the gentle image. When he opened his mouth to respond to Naruto's question, his teeth were not flat, but sharp, and his long fingernails clicked impatiently once against the desk.

"You mean dog-boy?" he asked, and the other chuckled again.

"Man, you are asking for it," he laughed, and Gaara whipped his head around to glare at him, but paused at the look of admiration on his face. His mind went blank the same time as his expression. "You're different, aren't you?"

Gaara did not know what to say.

"Shikamaru," he finally said, holding out a tanned skin with an approving nod. Gaara hesitated – it went against all his…_everything_ to act friendly towards_ anyone_…but something made him lift his hand to clasp the one held out to him.

"Gaara," he answered, and two things surprised him at once.

Firstly, the skin of Shikamaru's hand was like leather, hard-worked and rough. It made him pause and take in how lazy the boy looked, with his unkempt coarse hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, his eyes having a natural glaze that made them shine, his shoulders slumped…but as soon as those fingers squeezed his palm in greeted, muscles tightened, and he could see the veins crawl up his arm, strong and sturdy.

And the second was himself. His own voice was not gravely or mean, not rough or angry. Actually, it was soft, gentle and oddly curious as he shook Shikamaru's hand. He had not known his voice could sound anything but angry and mean. There was a real friendliness to the sound of it, and he felt the surprise overcome his features, making Shikamaru tilt his head. But the boy asked no questions and leaned back in his seat casually when he removed his hand from Gaara's firm grip easily.

"Anyway," he said with a shrug, glancing at Kiba warily – Gaara followed his gaze. Kiba was still watching him as he conversed with the other two. "His whole family owns this crazy business where they breed these evil mutant dogs."

"Mutant dogs?" Gaara echoed, raising an eyebrow at the challenge. "Well, that's new."

"Yeah," Shikamaru laughed. "A small one reaches your waist, at least. The ones you really need to watch out for are the really big ones – could take on a grizzly bear. Damn, they're huge. Good for hunting, though. Just two of them got into my dad's herds and it took twenty of us to get 'em back to the damn kennel. Troublesome things."

"I see…" Gaara said, biting the inside of his mouth. Well, screwing with dog-boy would be risky, but definitely not boring. "Who are the other two?"

"Eh? Oh, well that's Naruto," he said, and Gaara glanced back when Shikamaru let out a long sigh and rub his temple. "God, just thinking about him gives me a headache. Troublesome idiot. He's a total screw-up. Honestly, he's more annoying than Ino…easily."

Gaara paused and looked back the golden-haired boy, who was rambling on about something. As he watched, and listened – he could hear him from the other side of the room – he realized just how much of a retard he was. He remembered how he had almost fought back, and then how he had started laughing.

"Yeah, he's definitely stupid," Gaara commented, eyes narrowing at the memory.

"You run into him already?" Shikamaru asked, and he gave a grim nod. "Well, damn, hope you didn't get on his bad side."

"Try the other way around," Gaara said, and then raised an eyebrow at him, finding it easy to talk to Shikamaru – it almost scared him, but he pushed it down…something inside him was reveling in being…_liked_. "Why?"

"Naruto's on the football team with Kiba," he said, and shrugged with an amusedly sympathetic smile. "Sucks for you."

"You think he could beat me in a fight?" Gaara asked, finding this thought funny for some reason. He honestly wanted to laugh, but he kept a straight face thanks to how odd the thought sounded in his head.

"No offense, but you _are_ pretty small," he said, dark eyes lit up with amusement. This surprised Gaara, and he glanced down at himself, making Shikamaru laugh again. "Not scrawny, just a little more…eh, troublesome…uh, _slim_ than others."

"Right…" Gaara muttered, and then looked over at the group again. "What about the other…?"

"Troublesome. Excuse me if I can't do him justice," Shikamaru grumbled dryly, "But that's Sasuke Uchiha. He's basically the troublesome guy every girl wants to be with. You know?"

"I know the type," Gaara said, and then noticed something about the boy's features now that he was not angry. Blinking, he commented seriously, "He looks like he could be gay."

He jumped when Shikamaru exploded with laughter, doubled over in his seat. Gaara raised an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore the way his laughter was attracting _everyone's_ attention. A couple seconds later, he had stifled the sound by biting his bottom lip, sitting up and snickering soundlessly.

"You must have a death wish or something," he muttered as soon as everyone had looked away – Gaara was speechless. "Sasuke's more of a threat than Kiba and Naruto put together. He trains with his older brother or whatever, who's in this gang or something. Seriously, never say that to his face unless you're used to getting your ass kicked."

"I noticed," Gaara said, with a small nod, looking back at Sasuke.

"What, you got on his bad side, _too_? Damn, Gaara. You really are fresh meat. Troublesome…"

"I'll survive."

"Good morning, class."

Everyone quieted then and turned toward the front of the room, surprised at the teacher's sudden entrance. Silver hair that defied gravity, one beady black eye, and a mask that covered the rest of his face – Gaara's eyebrow twitched into a curious quirk.

"Hello," Kakashi greeted again, lifting his hand in salutation as his one visible eye crinkled shut. "How are we doing this morning?"

A chorus of loud groans and grumbles came from the room, but Gaara stayed silent, slumping in his seat and glaring at the nothingness ahead of him.

"Yes, yes," Kakashi said, voice rising above the others. "I'm feeling great, too." More people scoffed and laughed sarcastically, but Kakashi shook his head to silence them. "I believe we have a new student today in our homeroom." That one eye suddenly landed on him and Gaara met it with indifference in his own pale blue ones. "So why don't you introduce yourself."

"Why?" he asked, glaring.

"So that we can get to know you," Kakashi answered, perching on the edge of his desk. "You don't have to give us a life story, but you can at least tell us your name, likes and dislikes, hobbies, dreams for the future… You know, that sort of thing."

"Okay," he muttered, and then thought for a moment, glancing about the room before resting his gaze on the laid back teacher in front of him. He answered, "My name is Gaara. I like only two things: myself and my music. I hate everything else. I have no hobbies, and I have no dreams. Dreams are pointless. They're better left in fairy tales and story books, where they actually come true."

An uncomfortable silence came over the class, but Gaara did not move his gaze away from Kakashi's curious, analytical one. He was attempting to sum him up in a couple of words, but Gaara knew he would not be able to voice his opinions. The only words that could possibly describe him were insults, and a teacher would lose his job…

"How interesting," Kakashi said, and then a small smirk formed beneath the dark silk of his mask, as if he were about to trick him. "And what about your family and friends? Don't you like them as well?"

Gaara noticed how he avoided the word, "love". He wondered why for a second before he realized it did not matter.

"No," he answered, and saw Kakashi's eyebrows rise in surprise. "I have no friends, and my siblings and I are not a family."

"What about your parents?" he asked, and Gaara felt himself grow hot.

"They're dead."

How dare this complete stranger try to invade his life as if he were welcome in it? Who did he think he was that he should be allowed to interrogate him about how he lived and thought? His parents? Did he honestly think that he was so important that Gaara would not begrudge him for speaking of such a thing? Teachers were informed of these kinds of things, were they not?

"What about before they died?" Kakashi asked, and Gaara inhaled sharply, feeling his anger soar to his eyes, the thin line of his mouth, his fists.

"No." The answer was simple, but it seemed to concern Kakashi – his brow furrowed and the lines in his mask turned downward.

"I see," he murmured, and then smiled at the rest of the class. "Is anyone brave enough, then, to ask our new classmate a question? Now, class, let's make sure this is a _reasonable_ question, one that is _appropriate _and_ mature_. We wouldn't want to _embarrass _ourselves here. We should try to make a _good _and _decent_ impression… _Naruto_…"

Gaara blinked and turned his gaze to the left, not moving his head to glance at the tanned hand in the air, the blinding toothy grin that accompanied Naruto's big head.

"Oh it is," the blonde snickered, and Gaara remembered what Shikamaru had said about Naruto being an idiot. Apparently, Kakashi agreed.

"What?" Gaara asked, his voice making a couple of girls nearby cringe away from him. He ignored it, head twitching towards Naruto in just the slightest. Curiousity was consuming him – no one else had ever asked him about himself before..

"I was just wondering…well," Naruto paused, and then glanced around as if suddenly shy about his question. "You don't really seem like the type, but…eh…you know…"

"No, I don't," Gaara corrected, and raised an eyebrow at Naruto, who smirked.

"Are you gay?"

"_Naruto_!" Kakashi groaned, hitting his fist against his forehead while the class roared into hysterics.

"What?" Naruto asked, sitting up and holding his hands in the air defensively. Gaara noticed he was able to ignore the furious death glare he was being sent. Impressive. "You should have seen him, Mr. Hatake! He totally turned down Ino! The only guys who do that have boyfriends!"

More laughter erupted from the students, and Gaara fumed, closing his eyes tightly, body tense, trying not to pummel Naruto through the wall. These people were absolutely insane! Was this the kind of country America was? Instead of being accused of being a monster, he was going to be called gay? Not that it was much of an improvement… Damn, even _Kakashi_ was laughing.

"Um, _hello_."

Gaara blinked his eyes open and looked at Shikamaru, who was almost standing in his seat, one foot flat on the floor, his other knee bent so his foot was on the chair. His hand was in the air, moving with a couple of waves to attract the attention of his amused classmates. Before Gaara could ask what he was doing, Shikamaru gave a dry smile to the class and shrugged, speaking.

"He's not gay," he informed them, and Gaara blinked. Naruto scoffed, and raised an eyebrow.

"And how would you know?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Shut up, Naruto," Ino snapped, and then smiled proudly at Shikamaru. Gaara blinked, and glanced back at the boy, who had turned his gaze to avoid Ino's, a blush tinting his cheeks… "Shikamaru knows _everything_."

"Well, why don't you explain anyway?" Kiba sneered, and shook his head. "I won't believe him until he comes up with some proof."

"Okay…" Shikamaru sighed, and then gestured to Gaara's hands, which had uncurled slowly and were resting on the desk's surface. "First of all, he works. His hands are calloused, which means he's used to hard labor, plus he knows how to fight, something Naruto should probably know already. His hair is way too messy, since most gay guys take their looks into account before going into public. His personality is too indifferent and intimidating, no offense."

"None taken…"

"What about the make-up?" Kiba asked, grinning slyly at Naruto.

"It's not," Shikamaru answered, and Gaara blinked at him again. "That's skin discoloration, a symptom of insomnia."

"Honors class?" Gaara asked, quirking an eyebrow. Shikamaru shrugged with a tiny nod, moving to sit back down in his seat.

"Told you!" Ino said, sticking her tongue out at the two boys. "Shikamaru's a genius, Naruto. You and Kiba have major issues."

"Uh-huh…" Gaara looked up to see Kakashi staring at him warily, gaze curious and unrelenting.

"What?" he growled, and watched as Kakashi shifted uncomfortably, not saying anything. Gaara sighed and glared, disgusted by the continuation of the subject. "I'm not gay. I just don't date."

"All right, then," Kakashi said with a smile, and turned to his students again. "Any more questions?" Another hand rose into the air. "Sakura?"

Gaara turned to look at the pink-haired girl who blushed when his gaze met her emerald one, bright and curious. She sucked in a deep breath, seeming to gain confidence in that breath, for when she looked up again, her blush was gone, her voice strong.

"Where are you from?" she asked curiously, and tilted her head.

"Africa," he answered, and her eyes lit up in fascination. He wondered why she was easier to look at, to listen to, but then quickly shut off those thoughts and turned away. Who cared if she was attractive? It did not matter to him. She would hate him anyway.

"Africa?" Kiba questioned, and then snorted. "Liar. How could you be from Africa if you're white?"

"Kiba…" Kakashi sighed, warning the boy to shut up.

"What? If it weren't for his hair, he'd be freaking albino!" he said, and Naruto snickered beside him.

"Because my parents were white," Gaara answered, trying to calm himself now. As long as nobody asked more stupid questions, he would be fine. "Color depends on race, not location. Plenty of people in Cairo aren't black."

"Where's that?" Naruto asked, and Gaara felt his heart lurch. Was he actually interested? Before he could open his mouth, the raven-haired boy who had stopped him from slugging Naruto in the hall spoke up, his icy voice freezing the room.

"Cairo is Egypt's capital, loser," Sasuke informed him, smacking him in the head. Naruto pouted and rubbed the spot, looking like a five-year-old. He suddenly blinked and opened his mouth. Sasuke cut him off. "Yes, Egypt is in Africa. Near the middle east."

"Thank you, Sasuke," Kakashi said with a fake smile, and the raven-haired boy rolled his eyes. "Anyone else? Yes, Shikamaru?"

"Yeah…" Gaara blinked and looked at Shikamaru. "I noticed the kanji on your forehead, and I was just wondering what it means and how you got it. It's not a—"

"_Tattoo_!"

Gaara sucked in a deep breath and tried to maintain his patience. Did that kid _ever_ shut up? He turned to look at the blonde, but was appalled and shocked to find him not two inches away, squatting on his desk, hovering in front of his face. He glowered angrily.

"It's not—"

"_Dude_!" Naruto yelled again, looking mystified as he stared blankly ahead at nothing in particular. He threw out his arms in his excitement, nearly hitting Gaara in the face – he dodged the hand easily, scowling. "I'm totally going to Asia!"

"Africa," Sasuke corrected, carving absentmindedly in his desk with a pencil.

"Dude, if you can get tattoos when you're like _ten_ or something…when did you get it? Man!" Naruto rambled on, ignoring Sasuke. "Asia is _so_ cool!"

"Africa…" Sasuke muttered, glancing up at his friend with hard, narrowed eyes, setting the pencil down.

"I mean, it won't be on my forehead," Naruto said with a snort. "Or a symbol or nothing…but I could get…well, I don't know what I'd get, but I am definitely going to Asia!"

"_Africa_, idiot!" Sasuke growled, and flung something across the room.

Two seconds later, Gaara jumped as the hardback book struck Naruto directly in the side of the head, knocking him straight off the desk and onto the floor. Raising an eyebrow, Gaara peered around the desk in unison with Shikamaru to look at the blonde, who was twitching on the floor. At least he was not bleeding…

"Sasuke!" Kakashi shouted, getting everyone's attention immediately. Gaara marveled at how dominant he sounded compared to Yashamaru, the little weakling his uncle was. "You never throw _anything_ in here, especially at a classmate, let alone a friend! Of all people, you should be used to Naruto's enthusiasm. Do that again and you won't be getting off with just a warning."

"Fine, fine," Sasuke mumbled, waving a hand at his teacher nonchalantly. "But I'm sure Naruto is used to _that_. With as many times Sakura has turned him down, he's used to just about everything thrown at him."

"Ow…" Naruto groaned, using the desk as a support as he climbed to his feet again. Gaara used the opportunity to speak, swallowing first before doing so – he was not used to talking so much…no one had ever asked before.

"It's not a tattoo," he muttered quickly, and paused at the look he got from Naruto. "It's a scar."

"A scar?" Naruto repeated softly, and Gaara's gaze was drawn to the whisker-like marks on either side of his face.

"Uh, yeah… I don't know what it is from or how I got it, or even when…" he rambled quickly, shrugging. He remembered what Shikamaru had asked and glanced at him. "I do know it means 'love' in Japanese, though. It doesn't mean anything to me, though."

The silence lasted for two seconds, and then the bell went off, startling Gaara inwardly. He was surprised when Naruto gave him a quick, half-hearted smile, and then ran out of the room with his friends. Shikamaru stood, muttering something about school being troublesome. On his way out, he sent a crooked smirk at Gaara and clapped his back, stunning Gaara.

Yep. America was strange.

Gaara lifted his bag off the ground, but held back so he could approach Kakashi's desk alone. The man was flipping through sheets and folders, so he cleared his throat loudly to get his attention.

"Hm? Oh, yes, Mr. Sabaku, what can I do for you?" Kakashi asked, smiling up at him. Gaara immediately flinched, but spoke nonetheless.

"My uncle said my homeroom teacher was supposed to have some papers for me," he explained, trying to ignore the first period students filing in and giving him strange looks. "Do you have it?"

"Oh, I almost forgot!" he said with a nod, and a smile, as if thanking him for reminding him. Gaara ignored it and merely stood there as Kakashi rummaged through his desk. "Hold on…just one second… I have a tendency to forget things occasionally, so you'll have to put with my bad memory for a few months. Ah-ha! Here we are."

Gaara took the sheet of paper handed to him, noting how similar the format was compared to the schedule he had gotten previously. A variety of number combinations and labels filled the sheet. He glanced at Kakashi when he started talking again.

"It has everything you need," he was saying. "Your locker number and combination, library and lunch number, computer log-in information… Oh, and I've added my number at the bottom of the sheet. Don't hesitate to call if you're having any trouble with anything, all right?"

Gaara nodded, not sure what to say, and turned away from him. When he was in the doorway, Kakashi asked him to wait, so he paused and glanced over his shoulder to see the wise smile given to him.

"And welcome to America."

* * *

**I have changed a lot of Gaara's personality once you compare this version to the old version, and don't worry – he'll be back to his old isolated and angry self in the next chapter. Here, he's a little confused, but that'll all be fixed thanks to our lovely, timid Hyuga heiress soon enough. I hope that my revising this story has not come as an inconvenience to any of you. I'm moving through the chapters fairly fast, so just be patient. The seven chapters that were in the older version should be fit snugly into three much longer chapters, so I'll be able to create a much longer story. Hope you enjoyed. Remember to review!**

**Oh, and before anyone asks, I _did_ replace Sai with Shigure. Sai won't make an appearance until the sequel – so it fits the original Naruto plot more easily. Plus, I have fallen in love with Sai…so…I couldn't hurt him. _Yes_, Shigure is a real character of Naruto, albeit an immensely minor one. If you don't know who he is, Shigure, in the anime, is the shinobi that Gaara kills in the Forest of Death. I know, he's not hot at all, but I didn't know who to replace Sai with, and the scars Shigure has in the anime are similar to the ones I gave him in this story…so I hope I didn't confuse anyone there.**

**AnimeCountDown**


	3. A Day At Konoha High

* * *

**NEWPORT, NORTH CAROLINA – 7:55 A.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**His first class of the day: Latin.

* * *

Gaara was still feeling awkward and unsure as he stalked clumsily through the halls to his locker, trying to find the silver plated number so he could just go to class and get away from all the people staring at him! It would not be so bad if it were not for the doubt and strangeness inside him – he could not summon the anger or hatred to glare back at them.

When he finally found his locker – 2296 – he quickly spun the combination, muttering words to himself under his breath, "Twenty-one…thirty-nine…thirty-two."

He gave the lock a small tug and it clicked open, allowing him to remove it and open the door without effort. Trying to remain inconspicuous, Gaara nonchalantly stuffed his bag inside the locker, taking from it two spiral bound notebooks, a binder, and a book: _The Da Vinci Code_.

Most people found it odd that he took the time to read, though the reason behind his small hobby was rather simple. Like music, it helped him find a calm state of mind that got him to forget about everything else for just a while – the people staring, hating, threatening, insulting… Plus, Temari had suggested he present his reading to others, so he decided there would be no harm in hiding it. It was easy to read and follow anyway as most of it was written in French and about French history and theories: Gaara had lived in France for eight months. It was one of the many countries Yashamaru had been transferred to, and it was not a hard language to learn – especially when you had nothing better to do.

He shut his locker again and slid the lock back into place, not really caring if anyone opened it or not. Pulling his crumpled schedule from his pocket, Gaara checked to see that his next class was World History, and comparing it to the sheets Kakashi had given him, the classroom was not that far away. At the next corner, still ignoring the funny looks he was being given, Gaara turned left and then paused at the fifth door on the right, staring at the inscription on the wall near the doorframe to make sure he was at the right one.

Once he was positive, Gaara stepped in and moved quickly to the back of the room, where he easily located the teacher's desk. There, a young-looking man glanced up at him from behind thick, round-rimmed glasses, strands of silver falling loose from his ponytail.

"May I help you?" he asked, and Gaara grimaced at the too-smooth voice, how seductively velvet it was. It repulsed him immediately, making him shift away from the man a whole foot.

"Yeah, is this Latin?" he answered, sparing another glance at the sheet to check his name. "You're Mr. Yakushi?"

"Yes, I am," he said with a smile that made his insides freeze over. "You must be Gaara Sabaku, our lovely foreign student."

Lovely? Gaara noted to stay away from Kabuto by all means.

"Uh, sure."

"Excellent," Kabuto purred, and stood up. Gaara noticed he was shorter than average – it made him take another step back, and he was pretty sure his new teacher caught the gesture that time. With a small frown, Kabuto motioned for him to follow, so he obliged reluctantly. "You will sit here," he said, tapping a desk as he walked by, and then moved to a closet, opening it and pulling out a text book, adding, "And you will need to bring this with you to class every day. Since you arrived at Konoha a little late, you will have to do some catch-up reading, but if you need any help, be sure to ask."

Gaara said nothing as he accepted the thick book and took his seat at the back of the room. Already, people were whispering to each other and giggling, peering at him over hands shielding moving mouths. By the time class started, Gaara's head was buried in his arms to hide his face.

At least it was becoming easier to hate this place again.

* * *

**NEWPORT, NORTH CAROLINA – 7:59 A.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

Naruto stepped into the drama room with a yawn, the offending noise from his mouth unheard amongst his chattering classmates. New gossip and rumors were flying thanks to the newest and most interesting topic since their freshman year had started: Gaara the Emo Kid.

Already, the sulky boy had picked up quite a few nicknames, including the ones Kiba was muttering to himself as he continuously stabbed the back of the chair in front of him, cursing loud enough for Ino to hear. She, too, was fuming, and it seemed that this was not something she would get over soon. Nobody had ever dumped Ino before Shigure, and now Gaara was the only – well, the second – guy to ever have rejected her so coldly and emotionlessly.

"Whatever," she finally said with a huff and a pout to match. Naruto rolled his eyes and knocked Kiba's hands away from the chair, sticking his tongue out at him. "I guess he's not _that_ bad of a guy, though…"

"You aren't mad he totally blew you off?" Kiba asked, stunned at her sudden turn of sides, despite the way she still looked like she could bite either of their heads off.

"Well, I mean, it's not like I held a grudge against Sasuke or anything," she said, nose wrinkling at the reminder of possibly the only sane man who had never touched a girl in his life, when speaking in non-literal terms of course. "Anyway, he may be pretty hot, but he's kind of creepy, even if Shikamaru did talk to him or whatever."

"Yeah, he's _worse_ than Sasuke," Kiba said, grimacing, and then tilted his head at Ino, looking confused again. "You sure you're okay? I mean, hardly anyone turns down _Sakura_, so if you're upset, you have every right to be."

Naruto whipped his head around to glare at Kiba, who blinked at his friend's mood swing, and then his eyes went wide when he recognized his mistake. His dark blue orbs turned a whole shade darker as he towered over Kiba by a whole three inches that seemed like thirty at the moment.

"What does _that_ mean?" Naruto snapped, but shook his head furiously when Kiba put his hands up in defense, mouth opening to speak. "Sakura is just as pretty as Ino, and I don't think I need to tell you she's smarter! What makes you think that Ino is any better than Sakura, huh? If anyone should be asking out anyone, it should be Sakura! So don't talk about her like that unless you wanna respond to me, got it?"

"Totally," Kiba said, nodding sincerely so as not to face his friend's wrath.

Naruto snorted and shook his head in disgust, pushing past the brunette to move down toward the stage of the auditorium, where students were already gathering and chattering excitedly to one another. He heard Kiba and Ino mutter something behind him, but did not bother with trying to make out the words.

It had been years since he had first fallen in love with Sakura Haruno. Miraculously, she had changed from being shy and insecure to assertive and confident. Even if her attitude _did_ result in a lot of pain on his part, Naruto could not help but chase after her, do as she wished without her asking. At least it was better now…thanks to _Sasuke_, of course. It was only because the two of them were friends that Sakura had spared Naruto a second glance, had finally given up a little respect to bestow Naruto with. His infatuation only increased as Sakura's did, and Sakura had her eyes set on another freshman: Sasuke Uchiha.

Naruto's best friend and greatest rival.

So, yes, things at Konoha High would definitely be heating up a little once one considered how much drama was to be expected, though Naruto was not sure anyone could surpass the amount they had already gone through.

Naruto turned his head from side to side, the joints cracking – it relaxed him immediately, and he was able to run a hand through his hair and turn back to look at Kiba and Ino. At once, Ino's icy glare caught his eye, and he glanced near the steps to the stage in unison with his masculine friend, spotting the victim of Ino's merciless hatred at once.

Naruto grinned devilishly, not taking his eyes off the hunched up freshman in the corner, glaring silently at the ground. He knew Kiba could handle this one.

"Hey, Shigure!" Kiba shouted, and Naruto saw him smirk evilly, pointed teeth bared at the boy when he looked up in surprise and fear. "What happened to your face? Did your dad finally get glasses and beat you for takin' after that ugly momma of yours?"

An angry glare was thrown their way, but Shigure did not dare say anything, not a snort or grunt escaping his bruised, swollen lips. The boy slipped away without a trace, easily blending in with the crowd – Naruto wondered how long it would take the scars to heal. A fraction of him did feel bad for hurting a classmate that badly, but he was supposed to look after friends first, and Shigure had had to pay for what he did to Ino. His thoughts were interrupted by an angry voice directed their way.

"Kiba!"

Naruto winced and bit his lip to suppress his anger, turning slowly to face his first period teacher, the source of disappointment and frustration. He saw the dark brown eyes glaring at Kiba over the heads of a numerous students choosing to ignore him, and nudged his friend quickly, gesturing to the back door. Kiba nodded and slipped into the crowd, followed by a grateful Ino. Iruka immediately blinked, searching for his misbehaving students.

"Hey, Iruka!" Naruto called, setting his binder on the stage and flipping to the homework Iruka had given them. "I have a question about this Shakespeare guy, you know about what we were talking about last night. I just remembered something I wanted to ask you."

"Um…sure, Naruto," Iruka muttered, making his way over to the blonde. Naruto sighed – tricking his dad was something that always made him feel guilty, but letting Kiba get off the hook was well worth it. "But do you know where Kiba and Ino went?"

Naruto inwardly grimaced, but plastered a fake smile on his face and answered innocently, "Yeah, they had to go to the office or something."

"Okay, Naruto," Iruka said with a sigh, and then turned to the paper Naruto had laid out before them. Quietly, his teacher and guardian added, "I trust you."

_I know._

* * *

**NEWPORT, NORTH CAROLINA – 8:01 A.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

Sakura took her seat in first period, the one next to her almost instantly being occupied. Smiling at her English partner lightly, Sakura began to open her books, side tracked glances shooting occasionally toward her classmate. As always, he did not seem to notice, so she kept looking over at him through her hair, sighing dreamily to herself as she examined each of his flawless features for the hundredth time that week. Every since they had been put together, it was all she seemed capable of doing.

Green eyes glazed over as she noted every detail of his face, slightly turned so he could gaze out the window as he normally did. His nose was perfectly carved, not too big or small, not crooked or bent. His skin was a stark pale contrast to his best friend's tan one, a similar shade of her own milky tone. His blue-tinted hair was as dark as a raven's wings, long enough to frame each side of his face and then short enough to spike up in the back, another bird-like feature. Despite campus rules, the first two buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned, his jacket draped on the back of his chair, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows – it all gave her a decent view of his muscles, noticeable but not oversized.

It was his eyes, though, that made her stop and stare for an extra three seconds…or five…or ten…They were normally as hard as obsidian, with a color to match, but now, as he stared out of the classroom, they were unfocused and soft. She could almost say that they were unguarded now, not suspicious as they usually were. Well, it was often like this when he daydreamed before and during class…

Before she could contain the noise, a giggle erupted from the back of her throat at the thought of putting "daydreaming" and "Sasuke" in the same sentence. It was a tiny, stifled noise, but he noticed it nonetheless – damn his observant habits. She had turned her head to stare at her book, but when she glanced up through the veil of pink hair separating them, he was staring at her. It surprised – and relieved – her when she saw it was not an irritated or criticizing look such as the ones he gave her around the others…it was merely curious. And friendly. It took her breath away when the corners of his femininely shaped lips tugged upward in one of her favorite smiles, a smirk fitting his expression.

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Hm?" It was an innocent sound, as if she had no clue what he was talking about. She raised her head to look up at him as if it were simple, nonchalant – as if it were the first time she had seen him that morning…as if it were not a big deal.

"You laughed," Sasuke informed her with a tiny glare. Sakura's heart leapt at the sight of it – it was playful. "See, you're still smiling…and blushing, of course."

Sakura noticed the pink tinge on her cheeks at that moment, and then bit her bottom lip when her face grew even hotter. Her eyes grew wide and she turned to face her books again, staring at the text blankly without reading it.

"_Cha, damn it! He finally notices me, and I'm blushing like a little kid!" _her insides yelled, and Sakura closed her eyes as Inner Sakura ranted on about how life was so unfair.

Feeling stupid as she did, she firmly muttered an inward, _Shut up_, to her conscience. Inner Sakura had shown up ever since fourth grade when Ino had moved to North Carolina from Italy of all places and had given her a boost in the confidence department.

As crazy as she felt for talking to herself, though, Sakura felt a sort of sanctity in her other half. With Inner Sakura, she would only be the kiss-up, the teacher's pet. Every now and then, when she took Inner Sakura's advice – which usually entailed beating Naruto senseless – she was able to feel just a little less like a burden… Now, however, she would not be quiet!

"_But it's so embarrassing!" _Inner Sakura whined, and Sakura growled, resisting the urge to rub her temple…or hit it in the hopes of knocking Inner Sakura out of her head.

_Get over it,_ she commanded,_ We blush all the time around him, so it's not like it's any big deal. Just let it go and act cool._

"_Kinda hard when _you're_ controlling our body."_

_Bitch._

"Ms. Haruno!"

Sakura's head shot up. Had she just said that out loud? Her wide green eyes stared into Genma's, her English teacher. He had his hands on his hips and was giving her one of those half playful half disappointed looks that she often got from the teacher's that liked her. It was not often that she had to be called on for anything but a question or favor, but it was moments like these that she had to get a scolding: for _daydreaming_ about _Sasuke_.

Okay, so putting the two words together _did_ make sense. She caught the giggle this time.

"I was saying, Ms. Haruno," he continued, cocking an eyebrow at her, "That you won't need your books today, so if you could please set them aside."

"Oh, sorry," she murmured, bowing her head and shutting the books, pushing them to the corner of the desk she and Sasuke shared. "Habit."

"Mm-hm," Genma said with an impatient shake of his head. He then turned to the rest of the class, and Sakura did her best to focus on him this time. "Okay, then, class. The reason you won't be needing your books today is because we're taking a mini field trip. We're going to the sound."

A chorus of cheers and high-fives erupted from the students around her, and Sakura could not help but smile, too. Bogue Sound was right behind Konoha High, and usually, English classes did not have the chance to go out there most of the time. Most of the time, it was reserved for some of the school's sports teams or the science classes.

"Okay, okay!" Genma, shouted, gesturing for his students to sit down despite the smile he wore. "Shut up and listen. This is still _English _class, remember, so there will be _no_ going near the water, all right? What I want you to do is very simple, but you have to listen to what I'm saying in order to get it, okay? Now, who in here can tell me what a haiku is?"

At once, two hands shot up in the air and Sakura felt her eyes spark in fury at the tan one across the room. Her heated glare was met full-force by the opposing girl, but she did not back down, even when Genma did not call on her, but her rival.

"Yes, Ami?" Genma said, smiling encouragingly.

"It's a poem," Ami said brightly with a smile, flashing two hopeful glances at Sasuke, who Sakura could swear would have rather stared at the zit on the girl's forehead rather than her face.

"Um…would you like to add anything to that?" Genma asked, gesturing with his hands for her to continue.

"Well…they're…short…" Ami said slowly, and Sakura resisted the urge to grin evilly when the class began to snicker quietly. Sasuke tilted his head in fake confusion, giving Ami a look that asked her how the hell she had gotten into an honors class.

"Right," Genma said. His face had fallen at Ami's unintelligent answer, but he turned to Sakura, who still had her hand raised, and nodded. "Sakura, could you please elaborate?"

"Of course," Sakura said with a smile, setting her hand back on the table. It took all her will power not to stare Ami down as she said, "A haiku is a poem that consists of three lines with specific syllables in each line: five in the first and third, and seven in the second. The style originated from Japan and is usually based on some form of nature or art."

"Exactly," Genma said, and Sakura tried not to look too proud – she was a little smug about outshining Ami, but she definitely did not want anyone thinking she was some know-it-all. "That's a perfect definition, especially the part about nature. Usually, haikus' foundations are built off the simplistic environment surrounding the writer at that time. A haiku reflects how nature's beauty or wrath or eeriness makes you feel. Say you're at the beach… Can anyone come up with a quick haiku?"

There was silence in the air for a long time, but just when Sakura felt she might have the guts to offer one as an example, a hand rose to her left. She blinked and turned to look at a boy smiling sheepishly, looking as if he were not sure why he was doing it. His friends muttered things to him, and it seemed to give him a little confidence when Genma beamed and turned to him.

"Yes?" Genma seemed a little excited, but the boy merely shrugged, glaring playfully at his classmates.

"If anyone laughs, they are so in for it," he threatened first, before letting his hand fall just as he began to speak, "Sea that surrounds me; rolling waves crashing downward; water everywhere."

"Excellent!" Genma promised, and the entire class burst into loud applause.

The brunette grinned and stood, bowing to his friends mockingly. When everyone had finally returned to their seats, Genma looked again at his students.

"Okay, give me one about snow," he prompted, and a couple of inspired teenagers glanced around, thinking to themselves and counting syllables on their fingers.

Before anyone could create one, though, a tiny, trembling hand rose into the air. Sakura felt her eyebrows rise in surprise at the girl's bravery – usually the petite blue-haired girl was too timid to speak at all in class. She had the most beautiful of complexions, especially with her soft lavender eyes, so it had always bewildered Sakura when this particular classmate had refrained from any social activity. Now, though, she did not think anyone would try to discourage her.

"Oh, yes, Hinata," Genma said, nodding. It seemed he was just as startled at the rest of the class, but he gave the girl a supportive smile.

"I-it c-c-can't be very g-good, b-but…" she stuttered, speaking in an almost inaudible tone. When no one said anything, Hinata took a deep breath, turned her gaze to the surface of the desk, and murmured in a slightly stronger voice, "Falling tears of white; a blanket shrouded with light; whispers gently sing."

There was another silence, but this time, Sakura could feel the surprise and awe that filled it. Unfortunately, it seemed Hinata did not understand the reason for their lack of response, and so Sakura quickly raised her hands and began to clap, smiling brightly at Hinata. A second later, Sasuke, surprisingly, repeated her gesture, a strange light glinted within those dark orbs. In the next few moments, the entire class – save for Ami and a couple of other snobs – were applauding loudly and cheering. Hinata, of course, turned such a bright red, she put Sakura's blushes to shame – the pink-haired girl inwardly thanked her for it.

"Okay, then," Genma said, settling the class down as he normally did so easily. "Save anymore ideas for the sound, because you are going to need a lot of brain power for this assignment. I expect you to work with your partners on this one, for you are going to be creating a collection of poems. We will spend a minimum of one hour out there, so I'm going to be expecting at least ten from each of you, which means twenty per pair. When we get back, we are going to review and share what we have done. We'll do that for about twenty minutes tomorrow as well. For the remainder of the period tomorrow, we are all going to work together as a class to create a sort of scrapbook full of poems. Once you are done, the other periods will do the same, so we will have over three hundreds haikus in this book.

"Now, please remember to express all of your feelings and emotions. You can write about the plants, the animals, the sounds, the water, the sky, or the clouds for Pete's sake. Just make sure you put your emotion into it. On another note, this assignment is supposed to be relaxing, so relax, okay? No stressing. Remain calm, because I know this should be easy for you as long as you use your time wisely. All right, then, any questions?"

A couple hands rose, but Sakura was not thinking about questions. Her mind was too busy freaking out – well, Inner Sakura was, at least. _"Cha, yes! That's a whole sixty minutes of Sasuke and Sakura time! This is going to be so awesome! Poems are so romantic!" _

Sakura inwardly scowled at her inner friend, who was currently making it hard for her to enjoy something totally surreal. _Would you shut it? What's so romantic about writing poems _with_ a guy, huh? What would be romantic is if Sasuke actually wrote a poem by himself and then read it to us. I mean, me. Shit. You are so annoying._

Inner Sakura only stuck her tongue out, and sneered, _"Ha! You just called yourself annoying, cha!"_

Trying to ignore Inner Sakura's screams and taunts, Sakura stood with the rest of the class, grabbing her notebook and a pencil. When she turned to face Sasuke, who was stretching – making the shirt rise at his waist – he gave her a tiny smile and moved toward the door. Blushing immensely, Sakura hurriedly after him, making sure she kept by his side, and loving every second of being there.

* * *

**NEWPORT, NORTH CAROLINA – 9:30 A.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

By the time the second bell rang, Gaara was almost as pissed off as he had been a week ago. First of all, there was not one student in the entire classroom who had not stared at him at least five times before he gave them all death glares. What was even worse though was the way Kabuto treated his students – just a bit too friendly by his standards.

So when they were finally dismissed from the torturously boring class, Gaara gathered his things under one arm and moved to the door as fast as he could. He was not used to moving so quickly, but he thankfully did not trip and hastily made his way to his next class.

The moment he entered the room, however, he was brought face to face with the most stuck-up man he had ever seen. He quite literally looked as if he had a four-foot stick shoved up his ass. Nose wrinkled automatically in anger and distaste, Gaara shifted away from the man. He vaguely wondered at his teacher's choice of clothing: he was clad completely in one shade of blue and he was wearing tiny circular sunglasses even though they were inside.

Gaara glared at his teacher, realizing just how short all of them were – or was he just tall? Either way, it was starting to irritate him, especially the way each of them looked him straight in the eye so bravely. All of his hatred seeped into his eyes, where he knew even people as dense as Americans would see it.

"You must be Mr. Sabaku," the teacher said in a stiff tone, nose upturned. Gaara's nostrils flared at the sight of someone acting as his superior. Who did this man think he was? "You are late."

"Try again," Gaara growled, motioning toward the clock inside – it was not time for class to start yet.

"I meant in joining us in our curriculum," he replied – Gaara remembered his name now: Ebisu.

"Excuse me?"

"Apparently, you're parents thought it inconvenient to move here _before_ the school year started," Ebisu explained, and before Gaara could react, he continued, "No matter. That just means you have plenty of catching up to do so you can keep up with us. Education at Konoha High is no joking matter, so you will have to buckle down and do your work as instructed. Here," he said, and dropped a thick textbook onto the rest of his supplies – it made Gaara's knees bend slightly at the unexpected weight. "You will need to read the first five chapters in order to catch up with us, including all of the questions in each section, plus these," he added, and then placed a folder of papers on top of the book. "I will give you an individual test tomorrow to make sure you did as told. For now, go to the library and do your best to understand the work. Go on."

Stunned, Gaara stood there blankly as Ebisu gave him a short quick nod, turned on his heel, stepped into the classroom, and promptly shut the door in his face. It only took Gaara a couple of seconds to snap out of his shock and let the outrage take over his system. What the fuck was that idiot on? Did he seriously think Gaara was going to let him speak to him in such a demeaning way?

Growling, Gaara leaned forward as best as he could with the pile of heavy books in his arms and turned the knob. As soon as he could, he lurched a foot forward and kicked the door into the classroom. He did not jump as the others did when the wood slammed into the wall, bouncing back into his palm. The arm that had kept it from shutting again quivered slightly with tension, muscling rippling beneath his skin.

"How _dare_ you not follow my instructions?" Ebisu screeched, and Gaara swore he saw a couple of veins throb in his temple. "I gave you specific—"

"I'm new, remember?" Gaara snapped, and then sneered at his flustered teacher. "I don't _know_ where the library is, and this assignment is ridiculous."

"You will do your work as instructed," Ebisu ordered, and Gaara released a long breath to calm himself. "Because you are new, I will allow your conduct to remain unpunished. And now, if I could have a volunteer to escort Mr. Sabaku to the library and stay with him there until he is satisfied."

Multiple hands rose, but Gaara could only see one boy out of the seventeen.

"Miss Hyuga," Ebisu called, and Gaara saw looks of confusion cross the students' faces. Slowly, hands lowered, and one girl who had not had her hand raised peeked over the edge of her book, looking horrified. "Please, go."

"W-what?" the girl squeaked, and Gaara grimaced at the high-pitched sound. She reminded him of a mouse.

"You heard me," Ebisu sighed, and pointed to the door. "Escort Mr. Sabaku to the library right now. I would like to start my class. Come before third period for notes on what you've missed."

"O-okay," she stuttered, and quickly collected her books into her hands. Gaara noticed the novel at the top: _Inkheart_. It was a silly book, something he supposed was fitting for the timid little girl.

For someone so small, though, she was certainly quick. She was standing and out of the classroom before he could blink, and suddenly the door was in his face again. Scowling, Gaara turned and followed the blue-haired girl, watching as she kept her eyes on the ground, books held tightly to her chest. They walked in silence for the most part, but Gaara could not help but notice everything about her, the way she moved awkwardly as if scared she would fall or run into something, how she would not make eye contact with him, her fingers twitching uneasily against her books: she was scared.

Gaara let out a breath, trying to diminish of a bit of his rage at the fact when he said, "How do you know where we're going if you're looking at the ground?"

Startled, the girl visibly tensed, but said nothing in response. If anything, Gaara had made her even more frightened by speaking, and this did nothing to help his frustration. Why the hell was she scared of him? He had not done anything to her, and it was not as though she had done something to upset him, right? So what was her problem?

"Are you deaf or simply rude?" he asked, and at this she raised her head, face going white compared to the blush she had dawned earlier. "Because I don't need your help if you're not willing to offer it."

"I-I d-d-don't know w-what—" she muttered, lips working furiously to produce some type of coherent sound. Damn, the girl could not even speak without showing how much she would rather be in the class!

"Stop stuttering," he said, scoffing in disgust. "It's aggravating and pathetic."

They had stopped now, no longer heading toward the library. The noises she had been making faded into an awkward silence, and Gaara gritted his teeth when her eyes swelled, huge lavender orbs that reminded him of a bug's. It was all he could see of her face now, since she had covered everything below them with her books. Was she _hiding_ from him?

"What is wrong with you?" he asked, glaring angrily at her. "You can't look me in the eye without shaking in fear, any ability to speak evades you, and you feel the urge to hide when I confront you about your disrespect? Are you fourteen or four? Stop acting like such a child and stop being so rude."

At that, her eyes glazed over and he blinked when they began to shine unnaturally. She blinked a couple times, as if attempting to push that water back. A couple seconds later, her lips trembled, a choking noise coming from her throat. He raised an eyebrow in disinterest, watching her with reservation. What the hell was she doing?

He knew a second later: crying.

"I-I'm s-sorry," she finally whispered, and fled back down the hall the way she had come.

Gaara watched her leave, remembering how the salty water had poured from her eyes, nose turning pink and her voice cracking. Shaking his head in disgust, the redhead turned and continued walking. He supposed he would find the library for himself, then.

A part of him was pleased, though, that she had run from him, had shown him just how much she feared his dominance. She was the only one who had not tried to act like she was better than he, but it still pissed him off to know that she could possibly be scared of him without him saying anything to her, without knowing her. So much for humans being "humane."

* * *

**NEWPORT, NORTH CAROLINA – 9:33 A.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

Temari skipped up a couple of stairs and landed on the second landing with a sigh. She could not believe it was already time for second period. Her first class – flag and rifle corp – had been quite the work out, but hardly what she would call exhausting. It had been over much too quickly in her opinion, and now she was off to Honors Spanish 5.

Her teacher, Yamato, had been more than impressed with her work – she worked well with flag, sabre, _and_ rifle. Temari had spent time lifting heavy things in a lot of the countries Yashamaru had been transferred to – not all of them had been as financially set as America or Egypt. She had lived in three countries in the middle east, a few near central and south Africa, and she had lived in China and Korea for a year in total.

A lot of her free time had been spent in the small villages surrounding the government bases they lived in. Churches, schools, and homes had been in great need of rebuilding, and Temari had known that she could help if she just put some effort into it. It gave her a lot of self-satisfaction to see just what she could do for other people when she tried. Helping others was not as hard as Kankuro and Gaara made it seem, and if she could do it, she knew that she should. It was just the right thing to do.

Here in America, though, Temari found that the only things her skills were useful for was for recreational purposes. It almost disgusted her, but respect overpowered her dislike for the country that virtually ruled the world.

She entered the room with her head held high, moving confidently up the stairs and to an empty seat. Gazes followed her, but she chose to ignore the lingering eyes. Temari set down her books and then crossed her legs, settling onto the bench as comfortably as possible.

Immediately, she began to observe her surroundings, noting who was speaking to whom and how her classmates were behaving. It took only a few seconds to decide which of the seniors in here were worth getting to know. Nobody approached her, though many continued to send her curious glances – she ignored them for the most part, keen on appearing polite and kind for her first day of school at least. Konoha High could taste the fury of her temper _later_, only if someone was stupid enough to provoke her.

Two minutes after class was supposed to start, the door shut with a firm shudder and Temari turned her gaze to the front of the classroom. At once, her heart sped up and her eyes lit with excitement. It was the guy she had seen earlier in the hallway with Kankuro.

But then her eyes told her something, analyzing the situation heavily.

For one, he was not carrying any books or supplies, which indicated he would not be on the learning end of the rope today. Secondly, he was answering a female student about some homework assignment with a cocky smirk that told her he was being extremely inappropriate given his title. Then, after the girl went back to her seat, giggling with her friends, he moved to the front of the class, where he addressed the class as a whole.

"Good morning," he said with a pleasant smile, gesturing to the class. "We have a lot of work today, but first…" He turned, then, to look directly at Temari, who could not help the embarrassed blush the came over her face as he finished, "I would like everyone to welcome our new student warmly. This is Temari Sabaku, who has come all the way from….Egypt, wasn't it?"

"Um, yeah, Cairo," she answered with a breathless smile. He nodded and gave her another dazzling smile.

"Excellent," he said, and Temari bit the inside of her mouth to keep from screaming. "Welcome to Konoha, Temari."

She said nothing, instead settling on a half-hearted smile at the man before her: Izumo Kamizuki. All the while, she was inwardly shrieking, _He's my _teacher_?_

* * *

**NEWPORT, NORTH CAROLINA – 11:49 A.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

Free period sucked.

Gaara sighed and set down his pencil, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Hardly anyone else was in the library, so it was easy for him to relax somewhat by himself. Growling, he glared at the textbook and work before him with a small huff. His thirty minutes was almost up, and he still was nowhere close to being done with the assignment Ebisu had given him. Sure, he had made a lot of progress, but it was draining his energy so quickly, Gaara was ready to go to sleep, something he never did.

Frowning, Gaara pushed his books to the side for the moment and folded his arms on the table, burrowing his face in the coolness they provided a moment later. All the tension began to flow out of him, making his skin tingle as he relaxed slowly. Today had been the most exhausting "first day" or Gaara's life.

First period had been plain _weird_, what with Kabuto as his Latin teacher. He was the freakiest teacher Gaara had ever met. His voice was too soft and creep, and honestly, he reminded Gaara a little too much of Michael Jackson. He frowned in his arms as his thoughts trailed to second period instead. That had not gone very well. He had found the library soon after Hinata had gone, but he had not been able to focus at all, especially since the chapters in this damn textbook were so fucking long.

Growling, Gaara glared at the wall in front of him. That girl was still invading his mind, making him want to kill something simply out of fury. Not only had she shown her obviously distaste of being near him, but she had tried to hide it by pretending to be helpless and defenseless, not that to him she anything better, but it was still pathetic and desperate. It reminded him all over again why he hated people. Why he hated life.

It seemed ironic that everyone told him to be friendly, be better, be a good guy, but no one else could live up to that anyone. Who, honestly, could say without lying that they were a good person? Nobody. The world was an evil place and Gaara felt that he had no reason to make up for everyone else's stupid mistakes and prejudice.

He glanced down at the textbook and was considering getting to work again, to distract himself from the continuously repetitive thoughts circling his mind that vultures watching a dying animal when the doors opening broke the silence.

Not surprisingly, there weren't many people in the library during free period, as most students did not consider it valuable time to do work. In actuality, Gaara agreed, but doing the stupid work he had been assigned so unfairly was a pretty good way to kill all the stupid time he was being given as well. When the doors open, he cocked an eyebrow, managing to narrow his eyes at the same time, and turned toward the unwelcome intruder. If anyone _dared_ give him a headache now, he swore he would rip someone's head off.

Damn it.

Sparkling azure eyes faded to a dull, suspicious blue when they caught his gaze, the smile just below it faltering uncertainly. Gaara lowered his head into his arms once again, his eyes glowering at Naruto. Stupid blonde kid. Not only that, but Sasuke had accompanied him and was staring him down intently, though not exactly glaring. The hard, cold look in his eyes seemed to comfortable for the black-haired boy for it to actually be an intentional glare. Gaara matched it easily, but was both angered and shocked when Sasuke merely blinked and then muttered something to Naruto, never looking away.

And then Naruto was walking towards him, a goofy grin replacing the cautious thin line that had been there just seconds ago. A deep growl rose in Gaara's throat at his approach, but of course Naruto did not hear it. He would not have heard it even if he had been standing two inches away. Naruto was an oblivious moron. Or he simply felt he had the right to ignore Gaara's fury. Now that he thought about it, Sasuke was sending a similar look to the _back_ of Naruto's head. Wow. This kid was seriously immune to everything.

"Hey, man," Naruto said, not sounding nervous or scared at all. Gaara flinched at his friendly tone, the smile that greeted him and Naruto's casual attitude. "It's Gaara, right?"

His pale eyes intensified with rage, but Naruto's smile merely drooped a little, becoming a crooked, apologetic smile instead of an idiotic grin.

"Look, I'm sorry about this morning, dude," he said, chuckling lightly and shrugging as if it were no big deal. To Naruto, Gaara supposed it was not. He noticed Sasuke was beginning to move toward them in his peripheral vision, but he kept his eyes on Naruto. This kid was weird. "I was hoping we could start over, be friends or something. You seem like a pretty cool guy."

Gaara remained silent, not know how to react to Naruto's surprisingly kind words, marveling at out truthful and real they sounded coming from his lips. From Naruto, they did not sound like a trick, as if they were not a lie. It was impressive, but Gaara saw right through it, and despite how it piqued his interest, he was not willing to fall for such an obvious trap.

"I'll give you one warning," Gaara said, voice low and deep, an unmistakable threat in his voice even before he continued, "If you speak to me again, I _will_ kill you."

"Are you just looking for trouble?" Sasuke scoffed, suddenly standing beside Naruto. He stood there, defensive and protective, hovering over Naruto's shoulder like a vigilant older brother.

"No, but he is," Gaara hissed, glaring at Naruto, whose lips were pressed tightly together in a thin line. It looked like he was trying to contain his anger, trying to be the good guy, like Temari. It was hard, Gaara knew. Why bother? "And if he doesn't stay out of my way, then he'll get a hell of a lot more than he bargained for."

"Oh, spare me your bad ass attitude," Sasuke snorted, stepping in front of Naruto, who looked about ready to protest until Sasuke shot him a warning glance. Naruto paused, giving Sasuke time to say, "You don't impress anyone here with your stupid façade, _especially_ me. No one is going to treat you like a god, and nobody cares if you fucking feel sorry for yourself, got it? Grow up and get over whatever fucked up your life, because if you keep acting like that, no one will _ever_ care. Any hell you get in your life is your own damn fault, so stop acting like everyone has it out for you. Trust me when I say you are _not_ that special. Stay out of _my_ way, or you're going to be out of North Carolina before the end of the week. That's a promise."

Gaara felt every muscle in his body twitching anxiously, his fingers aching to wrap themselves around that neck and string it with every ounce of power he had. To destroy that pretty, otherworldly face and have those lips _begging_ to be spared. More than anything Gaara had ever wanted in his life, he _yearned_ to have this dark character, this _Sasuke_, on his knees and desperate for Gaara's own approval.

He wanted it so bad it gave him a headache, made his eyes burn with rage. It ached in his chest, made his entire body tense like a coil ready to spring, a monstrous cat ready to pounce and rip its prey to thin little shreds. It actually hurt, this need he _had_ to fulfill, the need to pull this high and mighty high school god from his false throne and push him face first into the mud.

But he couldn't say a word. Just like in the hallway, something made his throat close up, made his body unresponsive to his will. He wanted to break that perfect nose right now, make those glittering onyx orbs swell up so he could see, knock out those insanely white teeth. But he couldn't. Something stopped him. And when a wave of realization crashed down on him like a ton of bricks, a flash of unmistakable, uncontrollable anger came with it. Finally, he opened his mouth and managed to speak.

"I'm not scared of you, Uchiha," he scoffed, and as he said it, he knew it was the biggest lie he could have ever uttered.

* * *

**NEWPORT, NORTH CAROLINA – 1:13 P.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

Sasuke placed the long white stick to his mouth and inhaled deeply, allowing the thick, strongly scented smoke fill his lungs. It was a familiar feeling, the way it made his body feel so full, as if he might burst, and he reveled in it, leaning his head back against the wall in a state of bliss. His eyes closed, he let his hand drop to his side, ashes fluttering to the grass, and blew upward toward the sky. The smoke that had once been a part of him billowed from his lips in wispy clouds, and when he opened his eyes, he saw that it was already fading away.

Sighing, knowing he was risking a lot, he brought the cigarette to his lips and breathed in the poisonous fumes again, mind whirling. It had taken a while for his body to adjust to the smoke, to the tobacco, but it felt right to him now. This was one thing that felt purely and simply _right_. Everything else in his world was chaos.

The main focus of his thoughts was the new kid: Gaara. He was a fairly good distraction from the other things he refused to consider, to take into account now that he was really growing up into the real world. So strange and abnormal, Gaara was something he could think about without risking _anything_.

He shifted, back rubbing against the brick wall of the school that he leaned on so casually. Skipping lunch was something he did regularly, without much thought nowadays. Smoking had come to be a little more frequent, but it helped calm his nerves as well as the cool breeze on his skin, playing with his hair and the loose folds of his clothes. As his sleeves ruffled around his arms, something came to mind and he shifted again so he could pull them away from his forearms, above his elbows.

The sight that met him was so familiar, it took him a couple moments to allow his mind to truly analyze what his arms looked like. He understood what people meant when he said he was attractive. His arms were strong and hard, flawless white skin spanning out over the remarkable muscles he used so many times a day. No hair had ever grown on either his arms or his legs, and for that he was grateful. His strange, dark hair would look out of place on such deathly white skin. The only thing that stood out on those arms was the trails of dark blue lacing up his arms, his veins strongly noticeable beneath the translucent skin. Yes, he would admit that he was beautiful, even if he _was_ only looking at his arms. Of course, it was all the little things that made up what everyone admired, put together the person everybody craved to touch.

He stuck the cigarette in his mouth absentmindedly, as to free his hands, and twisted his arms this way and that, curiously studying those flawless arms. The looked so familiar, like the arms he had seen earlier that day in the library during free period. Gaara, as pale as he was, skin remarkably healthy for someone so uncaring of his appearances, had the exact same arms as Sasuke. Well, he _would have_. It was a shame that someone would want to destroy something so pretty.

Tilting his head to the side, Sasuke contemplated what it would be like to mutilate his own body, to purposely flaw something he so very much admired. Knowing that he would never have the courage to actually ruin his body, knowing that he was just as shallow and vapid as all the girls who sought after him, he traced a fingernail down the length of his arm, slowly. First, he did so vertically, watching the tiny pink line of pressure follow his nail, and then he made the same, temporary mark, only horizontally, on his wrist. He stared, holding his forearm gently, watching as the lines began to fade, very slowly, unused to such abuse.

What would it be like to have scars that would _never_ fade?

Gaara had had those arms, ones that were unsmooth, broken over and cracked, red and bruised. The thought made even Sasuke shudder, made him close his eyes and shake the image from his mind. It truly was horror, but he recognized that sort of pain. It was in Gaara's pale blue eyes, an emptiness that only echoed a type of internal conflict, fighting with himself, screaming at the world until it solemnly agreed with his lies.

What could have happened to anyone to make him so fiercely hate everything, even himself? That type of self-infliction was not a result of wanting to release that pain, but to increase it. He knew a part of Gaara felt sorry for himself, but more than anything…Sasuke felt that the boy hated himself as much as he loved himself. _A self-loathing narcissist,_ he laughed to himself, _What an oxymoron._

Tilting his head up, Sasuke studied the sky. It was beautiful, a dark clear blue as shocking and electric as his eyes. _His_ eyes. His eyes narrowed, firmly putting the thought out of his mind as he stared upward. With a tiny tilt of his head, he realized that it would rain soon, maybe later tonight or tomorrow morning. Still, the blue so pure reminded him of something else about Gaara, something odd and unmistakably weird.

Once he thought about it, he realized that Gaara was just like Naruto in a way. Well, there was the obvious differences in their personalities, making them complete opposites, but something ran deeper than that. Sasuke sensed a innate connection between the two adolescences, whether they did not know each other or really get along or not. It was their isolation, the deep pain that laced the anger in Gaara's eyes and the happiness in Naruto's. They were both so lonely, and Sasuke knew that Naruto would not give up in trying to reach out to Gaara. It was Naruto's nature to nurture others, pick them up and dust them off despite everything that had happened to him. Nothing discouraged that idiot, and it was one of his more admirable qualities, Sasuke would admit.

But it scared Sasuke, almost. Everyone knew what it was like to feel lonely. Sakura, Kiba, Ino, a couple of other students…and himself. He knew how much loneliness hurt, how it swallowed you with darkness and resentment. It was the cause of everything he was. But Gaara was another story. His loneliness, his isolation ran as deeply as Naruto's did. It was injected into their veins, as much a part of them as their blood. It was saddening, yes, but Sasuke felt no pity for Gaara. Curiousity, yes. Anger, yes. But never sympathy.

He finished off the last of his cigarette, stretched, and then put the still-burning embers out on the side of the wall. Refusing to be careless, he kept the crumpled item in his hand as he strode around the building once again, slipping it into the trashcan before joining his friends in the cafeteria. Bright smiles turned his way, only a sputtered objection from Naruto and a few giggles from the girls at the table when he grabbed the blonde's soda and gulped the rest of it down in a couple of seconds.

"Yo, get your own soda, man!" Naruto whined, the childish tone sounding odd with his deep voice, strangely mature compared to last year.

In middle school, Naruto had not been lucky enough to hit puberty, but after his voice deepened, he hit his growth spurt, and he lost all his baby fat in just a couple of months, he was quite a package to deal with. Sasuke simply smirked at him, the taste of sleek soda coating his teeth, replacing the dry feeling of smoke. He dropped the bottle in the blonde's lap and stood behind him, placing his hands on his shoulder. He bent his head down so his lips were at his ear.

"Get over it, Naruto," he growled, but he kept his voice playful, positive. It was still hard for him, but being around Naruto made it easier to _not_ be so pessimistic and gloomy.

"Oh, get over _yourself_," Naruto snorted, frowning at the soda before slumping a little. "You're such an ass."

"Just a soda, Naruto," Kiba laughed, and then tossed him an unopened bottle. "Stop cryin' like a little girl and drink the damn soda."

"You know what," Naruto said, catching the bottle and sneering at his friend. "You're an ass, too."

"Yep," Kiba agreed, grinning just as Naruto twisted the cap open.

A second later, Sasuke found himself being drenched with soda, the dark, sticky liquid spraying him profusely as Naruto held the bottle upright. His entire body went rigid, his eyes shutting close as the soda flew everywhere, soaking into his skin and hair. He heard laughter erupting from the crowd around them, heard Naruto yelling in surprise and anger. When the blonde had enough sense to toss the bottle Kiba's way, Sasuke straightened and slowly opened his eyes.

Naruto sat straight up in his chair, glaring down at himself and trying to magically dry himself as the soda sank in. Sasuke growled himself, smacking Naruto in the back of his head angrily, even though he knew it was not the boy's fault.

"Loser," he snarled, but Naruto merely sent him an irritated look. Then he grinned and Sasuke blinked, raising an eyebrow at the fox-like expression. "What's with you?"

"Oh, nothin'," he said, shrugging, but the mischievous light did not fade from his eyes. When he reached over and grabbed a random array of french fries that had become soggy with all the salt and ketchup on them, Sasuke's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. "Just thought a little revenge might be good for me, eh, Sasuke?"

"Oh God."

And then Naruto was flinging the messy bunch of food straight at Kiba. The boy gaped down at his shirt, now impossibly stained by the red glop. Then Kiba's face contorted with false rage, a grin betraying the features of anger on his face. Suddenly, a sloppy piece of pizza was flying through the hair. Sasuke watched in disbelief as Naruto ducked at the last minute…

"Oh shit," Kiba said, wincing as Sasuke closed his eyes slowly. "Dude, my bad. Sasuke…?"

"I'm not mad," Sasuke said, giving Kiba a wry smile. "And I'm not the one you have to worry about."

With that, he brushed away most of the food until only a large, ugly stain was left on his clothes. When he looked up, he gave Kiba another evil smile and then nodded toward the fuming girls on the other side of the table. His narrow brown eyes tripled in size.

"Let there be chaos," Sasuke murmured quietly, almost to himself.

"Oh, double shit," he growled, but the girls were already pouncing.

And then there was chaos.

* * *

**Okay, so after a year of re-writing, I have finally found a final plot and now I might be able to move a little faster. I'm not promising anything, especially since nobody has reviewed yet, but I'll keep trying. I'll edit it later, but I just wanted to get this chapter up. Please review.**

**AnimeCountDown**


	4. Arising Problems

**CAPE CARTERET, NORTH CAROLINA – 3:26 P.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

Sakura considered the deep blue sky above her to be a good omen. If she was fortunate, there was a chance she could be right. Smiling at her wishful thinking, she turned and gave the bus driver a little wave before starting off toward home. It would be easier to walk to Ino's house from here, just turn left and cut across the few neighborhoods that blocked them, but she did not want to go unprepared. It was only Monday, which meant she had school tomorrow and she was _not_ going in dirty clothes. Plus, Ino's clothes did not always fit her. Ino had more of a chest than Sakura did, and they both knew it. Asking her supposed best friend for a pair of clothes to borrow for Tuesday would be simply humiliating.

The only thing she could do without embarrassing herself was to slip inside her own house, grab some things, and then slip back out before anyone noticed. Why this was such a horror to Sakura was not one of the most pleasant things, but the walk, at least, was nice.

Her hair still felt sticky from the slushy Kiba had dumped on her at lunch earlier and her shirt had a huge stain on it… The reminder made her smile warmly and wrap the dark jacket tighter around her body, feeling lithe and small in its folds. Sure, Sasuke was slim and fit, but his body had a much more defined build than Sakura's.

"_Oh, cha! We're wearing Sasuke's jacket! Sweet!" _Sakura scowled at her mind inwardly, wishing that the voices there would shut up for once. Sometimes, she got the feeling that she was a little crazy for talking to her inner self.

_You've been saying that ever since lunch,_ she scolded, shaking her head minutely at nothing visible in front of her. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, but the trailer park around her was near empty, or the yards were, at least. The houses were full to the brim with total bums and slackers. She winced, and then turned back to her inner, _He was just being polite. Sasuke was raised right. Our – I mean, _my_ – shirt is white and he didn't want me to embarrass myself. Even if Kiba _did_ get all that pizza on him…_

"_See, you're the reason he doesn't like us,"_ her inner snorted, theoretically crossing her arms and turning her back to Sakura with a huff. Sakura rolled her eyes, hoping her inner would see, but could not help but respond.

_Well, I'm me, so you're just going to have to deal with it,_ she said firmly, and then proceeded to lock her inner self up within the dark recesses of her mind.

There was no need to feel distracted when her mission came ready. She could already see the rusting old trailer, once white but now a disgusting dirt-coated age-faded yellow, and she was bracing herself for the battle she was hoping to avoid. Taking a deep breath, she scanned her surroundings once more, making sure the only ones aware of her were the few silly animals who still dared travel this pathetic excuse of land, and then ducked through the trees to her right.

Through the brush, she snaked her way along the dirt road, hidden by the tangles of thorn and branches that snagged at her hair and clothes. She wished her hair was not such a distracting shade, but nonetheless moved up the last few yards to her house and peeked out of the bushes. Nobody was in the backyard, but the back window was open, nothing but a filmy screen blocked the view of her red-faced mother standing at the sink.

Was she doing dishes? No. Was she getting ready to cook? Hell no. She was not even completely facing Sakura, which was a relief to her, but that made it even less safe to chance going inside. The angry voices suddenly wafted toward her, finding a way behind the near-perfect immunity Sakura's ears had developed for it. Most of the time, she could just drown it out with her own thoughts and would not even take into account how much noise her parents made when they fought, but it mattered little to her now.

Completely silent and still, Sakura waited until her mother furiously threw down whatever she had been holding. Though she did not hear anything break, Sakura cursed lightly under her breath and watched as her mother turned completely away, her messy mop of long, unkempt, dull red-orange hair pulled back in an unfashionable knot the only thing visible now.

Quick as she possibly could be, Sakura dodged under the few branches, hoping with her very life that she did not get caught. She did not pause to see if she was stuck. That would only make her hesitate, and so without checking to make sure she would not rip anything, she tore over the few yards of space they used as a backyard and darted to her window. Never pausing, she flipped the top layer open and twisted the screen up. As soon as there was room, she shoved her bag through the space and then lifted her body up and followed it.

As soon as she was in, she moved fast and sure, not pausing to do anything but go in the routine she had memorized years ago. First, she went to her dresser and grabbed a couple pairs of clean clothes: jeans, a skirt, a couple cute shirts, and a spare uniform for tomorrow. She did not bother getting changed now. It would be too much of a time-consuming distraction. Quickly, she then grabbed a textbook and two folders she knew she needed for homework and then stuffed a thick wad of cash that had been hiding in the casing of her computer in between the pages of her latest book, _Wicked Lovely_ by Melissa Marr.

Then she was throwing her bag into the yard and hurriedly chasing after it. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she scooped up her belongings and shot out of the yard before her parents had even the faintest clue. She sprinted along the street, knowing nobody in the neighborhood was sober or sane enough to wonder why she was running as if the devil himself were at her heels.

She did not let herself slow down until she reached the highway. There, she turned right and began to make her way to Ino's neighborhood. It was sort of a long walk, probably a couple miles at the most, but her swift feet and conditioned legs were trained to keep from complaining or going too slow. She wanted to reach her sanctuary as fast as humanly possible.

Sakura would call home later, of course, in a few hours. She knew when the perfect time would be, around five or six. It would take just that long until her parents stopped fighting, her dad stormed out in search of a bar that wanted to deal with his crap, and her mother began to busy herself with chores, working out all her frustration until she realized her only daughter was missing. Again. Before her mom could panic and find enough reason to ground her, Sakura would conveniently call, tell her she had a project she needed to work on with Ino, which meant nobody had to cook a dinner for her that night, and assure her mother that all would be well until morning.

Simple.

"You need a ride?"

Sakura gave a startled yelp and spun to face the car that had crawled to a stop on the side of the road. A few angry drivers swerved dangerously near her closely parked car and honked, but the woman in the driver's seat ignored them, staring expectantly at Sakura with warm, teal-colored eyes. Blinking a couple of times and wondering where she had seen this familiar woman, Sakura nodded dazedly and climbed quickly into the seat. Only until she was reaching for the seat belt and the woman was smoothly gliding onto the highway again did she say:

"Sure, thanks."

"Not a problem, kid," she laughed, cleanly flicking a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear. Sakura glanced at the woman, noting the mature features, how her skin was sun kissed, and her hair pulled into a sharp ponytail that made her look dominant somehow. "I recognized you from Konoha, so I thought I could help you out. One student to another."

"Oh, yeah, you looked a little familiar, too," Sakura said under her breath, smiling unsurely at the woman. "Are you new?"

"Yep," she said, giving her a sideways glance and a wry smile that made Sakura smirk herself. "First day was today. I'm a senior, Temari Sabaku."

Sakura blinked and then stared at the hand that had been offered to her. Sabaku? No way could this cool person be anything remotely related to the new kid! It was just impossible. But when she looked up to see Temari's curious eyes on her, she knew there was no lie, and actually, a little family resemblance, in those blue-tinted orbs.

"Sakura Haruno, freshman," she returned, shaking Temari's hand and inwardly gasping at how sturdy the handshake was. It nearly made her fingers numb, but she returned the grasp firmly without wincing and then sat a little straighter in her seat, playing with the sleeve of Sasuke's jacket. "So, you're Gaara's older sister, then?"

"Oh?" Temari murmured, seeming momentarily surprised. "You met him?"

"Well, sort of," she said, uncertain of how to explain it. In homeroom, the guy had seemed a little unfriendly, but not nearly as he had been in band. Hinata, her flute buddy, had been shaking in fear when Gaara had sat down, absentmindedly tuning his guitar. At the sight of the Hyuga, his pale eyes had glazed over with such a cold sheet of ice, it made even Sakura squirm. And she was used to Sasuke. "He seems a little…quiet."

"Quiet?" Temari snorted, and then laughed loudly. Sakura got the feeling that the sound must have tasted bitter to Temari, especially when she muttered, "You must be a very nice girl."

"Well, it's not like he's…well, I don't really know him that well," Sakura admitted, not wanting to judge Gaara, or make his sister hate her guts. She seemed kind of…tough.

"Oh, don't worry about," she chuckled, waving a hand at her airily. "Gaara doesn't make friends very easily. Actually, he doesn't really make any at all, but it's not your fault. He likes making a big deal out of everything. I think it's pretty much normal for him by now to make everyone else feel like they _have_ to hate him. If they don't, then he gets confused, but he expresses that by being mad. It's…not good. He needs help, but nothing ever works."

"Oh, I see…" Sakura murmured, staring down at her hands at she contemplated what Temari said. Gaara was almost like Sasuke in a way, albeit a slightly more drastic version. "He seems like he could be a nice guy, though."

"Sure," Temari snorted, pulling into the very neighborhood Sakura had been planning to go to. She blinked, startled, and then looked at Temari. Those teal eyes widened and then glanced at her in shock. The car slowed as she said, "Oh, I'm so sorry. Where were you headed?"

"Uh…here," Sakura said, and Temari stared at her before laughing loudly.

"Call it destiny," she murmured, and increased the speed a couple notches before smirking. "You wouldn't happen to be going to White Oak Street, hm?"

"No way!" Sakura exclaimed, eyes wide. "You and Gaara live on _Ino's_ street?"

"I guess so," Temari said, eyes amused at Sakura's amazement. "Don't know who Ino is, but yeah, that's where we live, along with our other brother and our uncle."

"Oh, Gaara mentioned that…" Sakura said cautiously, her excitement dying. "That your parents…"

"Don't worry about it," Temari said, but Sakura noted the glistening of sadness in her eyes. And she could see the lie when the blonde continued softly, "I was too young to remember much of it."

"Oh…" she said, and then let out a deep breath.

Okay, Gaara's family was seriously messed up. So, the youngest, she was guessing, was an unstable, depressed teenager with mood swings. His older sister was the complete opposite, sweet and nice but with an air of authority that Sakura had never imagined possessing. She did not know anything about this other brother, but it was obvious that no one thought much of their uncle. And then with both parents dead…was it really a family if they were that unhappy?

She thought of her own parents and realized that no…an unhappy group of relatives was not the same as a true family. Then she was staring at a familiar two-story white house, a beautiful home that suited Ino and her dad. At least those two were close. Smiling, she was about to tell Temari she could drop her off when the other beat her to it:

"Right there," Temari said happily, looking pleased as she kept her gaze on the house ahead of them.

"_What?_" Sakura yelled, making Temari jump. Instead of amused now, Sakura was utterly bewildered. "How did you know _that_? Are you psychic or something?"

"Huh?" Temari asked, leaning away from Sakura a couple inches. Looking uneasy, Temari pointed with a pinky, hands still on the wheel, at a large brick house across from the one Sakura had been staring at. "That's my house."

"Oh," Sakura said, laughing and placing a hand on her head. She gave Temari a look of both relief and apology. "Sorry. But you live _right_ across from my friend. I thought you were talking about her house. Sorry!"

"No worries," Temari said, shaking her head. "I guess that makes it easier then, huh?"

"I guess so," Sakura agreed, and was smiling brightly by the time Temari pulled into the driveway. "It's a nice house. Ino and I were wondering when someone would buy it."

"Well, the government did," Temari said, smirking as they climbed out of the black Nissan. "That's why we move around so much. Not really an _army_ brat, but my uncle does work for the United States government. Random missions and all that. Crazy stuff, really, but not that big of a deal for someone so used to it."

"I suppose it wouldn't be," Sakura laughed, and then glanced toward Ino's house. "I'd better get going. I'm early, so I might be able to surprise Ino."

"All righty, then," Temari said, waving cheerfully as she began to back away. "I'll see you around school and stuff. Do you need a ride back to your house?"

"Nah, I'm catching a ride with Ino tomorrow morning," Sakura said, and then added quickly, "But thanks for the offer. I'll keep it in mind."

"Sure," Temari said, nodding at the tiny joke. Sakura suddenly realized that this woman was _super_ friendly. "Just give me a call… Hey, what's your number?"

"Oh!" Sakura gasped, smiling and then pulling out her phone.

After the had exchanged numbers, she was grinning again. They gave each other another quick set of goodbyes and then began to go their separate ways when something popped into Sakura's mind. She came to a decision and whirled in her spot.

"Hey, Temari!" Said blonde turned, face carefully expressionless, maybe a little curious, but not stoic. Sakura paused for a second, faltered, and then smiled lightly at Temari. _Keep it simple._ "Tell Gaara I said hi."

The look of utter shock that crossed Temari's face made Sakura's chest pang with sympathy and heartache, but it made her feel much better when a genuine smile of gratitude replaced it in Temari's eyes.

"I will," she said, voice soft and thoughtful when she nodded. Smiling, Sakura shrugged, said goodbye one last time and then jogged across the street.

* * *

**CAPE CARTERET, NORTH CAROLINA – 7:12 P.M. – SEPT. 17, MON.**

* * *

Naruto felt himself grinning as he shut the car's passenger door and situated himself comfortably into the black leather. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, loving the new car smell that surrounded him and filled his mind with the most pleasant of male-driven thoughts. There was nothing better than a new car…except maybe a new car filled with pale, pink-haired girls, but that was a fantasy that escaped reality's limitations. A brand new car, however, was everything _but_ a fantasy in that amazingly surreal moment.

If only the car was his own.

"So, do you like it?" Sasuke asked from the driver's seat, gazing around the sleek interior with one of his infamous hard-to-read gazes. He looked curious, as if he still had not gotten used to the car, but also expecting, as if he already knew what Naruto would say. "Not that a loser's opinion matters, but I thought I'd ask just to be polite."

"What?" Naruto yelled, feeling his immediate anger to Sasuke's teasing make his stomach boil. He had gotten better at controlling his temper…somewhat, but he still exploded every once and a while. "How is _that_ being polite?"

Sasuke did not answer, instead shrugging and leaned forward to turn the key in the ignition. Naruto's anger drained instantly as the engine roared to life and then rumbled steadily in a content purr. With an eyebrow raised, Sasuke turned to him, his expression an obvious command that Naruto answer his question.

"It's okay," Naruto said stubbornly, crossing his arms and turning his head to look out the window.

"Sure it is," Sasuke snorted. Anything else that might have been said was immediately overcome by a sudden blast of music.

Naruto jumped in his seat as the speakers exploded everywhere around him. The song was nearly unidentifiable, the sound was so loud, but what was undeniable was the bass beating clearly throughout the car. It vibrated the air, making the ground beneath them tremble. If this lasted for more than a few seconds, Sasuke's preppy rich kid neighborhood would get pissed for sure.

"Yo, that's _awesome_!" Naruto yelled, his voice cracking in order to be heard over the speakers. His look of pure enthusiasm was enough to crack Sasuke's armor and make him smirk. A laugh? No. Just a smirk. "_Sweet_!"

Sasuke turned the music down and cut off the engine with classic ease, leaning back in his seat against the window and looking every bit the cool, smooth badass everybody at Konoha High figured he was. Naruto would only admit to himself that he envied that part of Sasuke. It took Naruto years to get anyone to like him and it took Sasuke a single glance in his direction. Everyone loved a pretty face.

"So, you like it?" Sasuke asked, eyebrow still upraised cockily. Naruto shrugged and complied with a smile.

"It's pretty fucking nice," he said, nodding. He let his hands run over the leather beneath him, then curiously brushed the dashboard with his fingers. "And these windows are tinted to the max?" It was a luxury only people on the "inside" could afford…like Uchihas.

"All the way," Sasuke said, nodding. Naruto felt his eyes on him, as he found they usually were recently. Scowling, he turned to Sasuke with a grimace and discovered he was right. Those dark coal black eyes were on him, watching him intensely.

"What are staring at, jerk?" Naruto asked, squinting his eyes menacingly. "You're such a freak, you know that?"

"Yeah," Sasuke laughed bitterly, making Naruto straighten in surprise. As Sasuke shook his head and looked away, he finished, "I know."

"Dude, what's up?" Naruto asked, his eyes filled with supreme concern. Sasuke glanced up at him, shrugged, and looked away again. Annoyed, Naruto growled, "Nah, don't give me that! I know you too well! Something's wrong. What is it?"

"I…" Sasuke began, slowly and hesitantly. Something shifted in his expression before he continued, but Naruto could not identify what it was. It was something important, something extremely significant. "I was thinking about asking Sakura out."

Naruto froze, mouth agape in his utter shock. More than angry, he was totally caught off guard by Sasuke's words, not knowing what to say or do. How was he supposed to react to something like that? The fury was there too, of course, but instead of exploding, Naruto let it smolder inside him. How could Sasuke do this to him? _Everyone_ knew how much Naruto loved Sakura, and the one thing the blonde had always liked about his insufferably annoying best friend was his dislike for _all_ of his fan-girls. So, why did Sasuke suddenly want to switch to the normal side of teenage boy life?

Was it hormones urging Sasuke to give up his stoic streak? Could this possibly be another way to beat Naruto again? Did it have to do with the freaky new kid, Gaara, at school somehow? Had he begun to pity Sakura's insane need to be with the Uchiha? There was always the possibility that Sasuke could actually like Sakura…but…

Something was seriously wrong. Naruto felt it deep down inside him, knew it from the very base of his intuition and instinct. He knew it. He just did.

"Dude… Why?" Naruto asked, shaking his head at his friend. Immediately, Sasuke sighed and kept staring out the windshield.

"Look, I know you like her and all—"

"Your damn fucking right, I like her! I love her!" Naruto yelled, but somehow, the frustration he felt was not exactly because of Sakura. Something was upsetting his friend, and he had to figure out what it was. "I mean… Man, that's not what I asked. Just tell me why. Do…do you like her?"

Sasuke didn't answer, instead remaining extremely still and as unreadable as he always was. There was never a moment that the Uchiha let his guard down in front of a crowd, and it had only happened a few countable times when he and Naruto were alone together. Now, Naruto could feel, was about to be one of those enjoyable times when he saw Sasuke as the human he pretended not to be. If anyone was filled with as much emotion and feeling as Naruto, the blonde was positive it was Sasuke, though no one would believe him if he told anyone just how sensitive the young Uchiha truly was.

Naruto knew everything there was to know about Sasuke, and it was entirely mutual. Sometimes, in fact, Naruto figured Sasuke could read him like an open book, easily with the simplest, tiniest glance. It always took Naruto a little while to understand whatever was bothering Sasuke, but they both knew it was just because Naruto's mind was not quite as insightful, not as intellectual, not as bright. It was simple, and undoubtedly colorful and exciting.

Now, Sasuke was struggling. His eyebrows were drawn closer together by the tension in his forehead that signaled the deep thought Uchihas often sunk into. Coal black eyes that always burned with an inner passion for life itself, a fire that no one else seemed to see, were flaring more intensely than ever in a swirling state of confusion and turmoil. Naruto glanced down into Sasuke's lap to see the long, pale digits attached to his hand tapping impatiently on his leg, annoyed by the disappointingly slow process of his mind. Sasuke was searching for an answer that he could not find, or maybe he was looking for a new answer because he did not want to accept the one right in front of him.

"Sasuke…" Naruto said softly, leaning over to touch his friend's shoulder.

The respond was immediate, Sasuke's nerves practically visible as he jumped away from the touch. If anything got Sasuke's attention, it was physical touch. Hardly anything could surprise him, but Naruto had discovered long ago all the ways to slip under Sasuke's skin in order to find out what he needed to. Almost angrily, Sasuke shot Naruto a relatively irritated look and then opened the car door and climbed out. Groaning, Naruto followed suit, stepping in front of his friend when he tried to walk around the car.

"Dude, just talk to me," Naruto suggested, shrugging and grinning at Sasuke, reminding him that it was just the two of them. Dark eyes watched him carefully for a moment before Sasuke shook his head.

"It's not important, idiot," the black-haired young man answered smoothly, but Naruto bit the words about to fly off his tongue the second he felt his anger boil.

"If it's this much of an issue to you, then yeah it is," he snapped back, not letting Sasuke pass him. "What's with you, huh? And…why Sakura?"

"Maybe I do like her," Sasuke growled, and Naruto's head jerked back an inch in shock. _What?_

They just stared at each other, Sasuke's gaze furious and challenging and Naruto's every bit as intelligent as he could muster. There was something burning in those eyes, something that was festering away at his friend's life, his very soul. It concerned Naruto to the very bone, more so than Sasuke and Sakura dating ever could, if he was completely honest. Tomorrow, he would deny ever having been worried.

But now he had an obligation to his friend.

To his brother.

"Damn it, Sasuke, what is it?" he yelled, shoved Sasuke backward. He stumbled slightly, but his cold dark eyes narrowed in warning before he reacted in any other way. "Tell me right fucking now! I'm your friend and I have every right to know what's upsetting you. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone. Nobody, I promise."

For a long while, Sasuke remained silent, observing the situation with those creepy dark eyes. Naruto let out a long breath, scratching the back of his neck in an awkward manner. It was weird for him and Sasuke to actually be angry at each other, despite all the times they bickered and bantered in public. There was rivalry, but Naruto couldn't remember the last time he'd actually been furious at Sasuke, and even now, he could not find the anger inside him.

Logic spoke to him. Sasuke had the right to like Sakura, to be happy with a girl if he wanted. It was just something that Naruto had never expected, and in a way, it was one of the things that gave him hope when it came to the pink-haired girl. As long as Sasuke continued to turn her down, she would be free. But now…?

Sasuke abruptly turned to him, and in his eyes, Naruto saw something that frightened him. Whatever he was about to hear, it was going to seriously suck, though he could not imagine what on earth it would be.

"I'm moving."

Naruto blinked. The words did not register in his mind. They just sat there, blank and empty and totally full of…nothing. He could not speak, could only stare at Sasuke with a fixed gaze. There was no feeling or understanding, no comprehending, and for the first time, Sasuke did not reprimand him for being an idiot. The Uchiha looked just the way Naruto feeling, and when he spoke, he felt like a five-year-old, helpless and without control. He sounded and felt so utterly small.

"You're _what_?"

* * *

**CAPE CARTERET, NORTH CAROLINA – 5:59 A.M. – SEPT. 18, TUES.**

* * *

Kankuro always woke up one minute before six. Apparently, it was some sort of medical condition caused by stress and grief, though it had never made much sense to him. Years ago, he remembered the first time he had woken up at exactly 5:59 A.M., terrified and in tears. Anxious, he raced out of bed to find somebody else in the house who was as awake and scared as he, but he could find no one. Finally, he settled for waking up Temari, and though she was angry with him, she let him curl up with her for what remained of the "night" to sleep. Well, she slept. He waited, wide awake and trembling, until Yashamaru arrived at the house, with news of their father's death.

He had died exactly one minute before six in the morning.

Now, Kankuro always woke at that precise time. Sighing, he waited in bed silently before he heard the clock tick once more, until the evil, glowing red numbers on the screen changed. He kicked the covers off of him, not bothering to the make the bed before dressing himself. The air was warm, but not as humid as it had been in Cairo. It felt like Italy in the summer, and it felt nice. According to everyone in North Carolina, he was living in the bi-polar weather state and had been warned not to get used to the pleasant atmosphere. He had no clue what they were talking about.

The sun had not yet begun to rise, but a sense of morning stilled the air as golden light set the horizon aglow. With a yawn, Kankuro let tired eyes scan the world outside his window, wondering if anyone else in this god awful neighborhood was as haunted and awake as he. Shaking his head in doubt, he slipped on his shoes and jogged downstairs. The house echoed with emptiness as he stepped into the kitchen and moved for the bread. Temari and Yashamaru were asleep, but Gaara was definitely awake, since the creepy little freak never slept, but he was probably sulking on the roof.

Kankuro remembered the first time they had caught him doing that, sneaking out onto the roof at night to just sit there. Yashamaru had really freaked out and slapped Gaara right across the face. Kankuro applauded his normally timid uncle for that—granted, Gaara had punched Yashamaru in the left eye for it.

Kankuro hated his family—well, in truth, he really just hated Gaara. Temari was unrelentingly bossy and annoying, but she was his sister, and it was her job and right, he supposed. And though being stuck with Yashamaru was a pain, always moving and all, Kankuro held silent respect for his uncle. After all, Yashamaru despised Gaara just as much, possibly more so, than everyone else.

Gaara just ruined everything. He was like a plague, an angry little disease that eagerly spread its germs onto everything in sight, contaminating the world with his filth. All Gaara did was piss people off and bring hell to earth. The retard had no talents, no friends, and no fucking emotion—other than constant fury over nothing. _He should not have ever been born,_ he thought with a huff, chewing thoughtfully on his toast. _Gaara did nothing but kill Mom. Why couldn't _he_ have died instead?_

It was his attitude that really pissed Kankuro off most of the time, especially after all he had done to his so-called family. Maybe, if the dumbass was not so stubborn and hard-headed all the time, Kankuro might like him a little more—"might" being a key word. Temari was the oldest, but their dad dying left Kankuro as the man of the household! It was not fair that he had no authority, that no one ever listened to what he had to say—especially Gaara, who was the youngest and had no rights. Gaara was so stupid and pathetic, but he got away with all sorts of shit because he simply did not give a damn. It was impossible to punish someone if they would not listen. It was just a matter of time before Gaara was thrown in some delinquent prison—hopefully, that time was soon.

Upstairs, he heard the indications of his family waking up and getting ready for the day. Scoffing, he finished his small breakfast and slipped outside onto the back porch. The air was still warm enough to deal without a jacket, so he kept on until he was in the backyard. The government always sent them to these expensive, big ass houses—he spared a look around the huge yard. It was just the four of them! It was not like they needed a house that screamed "family." Maybe it was all just for appearances.

The familiar snarl of a poorly tuned engine abruptly cut through the quiet of morning, making Kankuro jump slightly in surprise and interest. The engine spat, growled, and then sputtered out weakly in silence. Curious, Kankuro moved forward toward the general area the sound had come from until he could make out the distinct grunts and curses of a frustrated mechanic at work. The noises were coming from the house just behind Kankuro's, and feeling relatively welcome in an odd way, he cast a wary glance around before nimbly hopping the fence. Slowly, he crept through the ajar back door of the garage, and his eyes widened considerably in both awe and shock.

_No way!_ Kankuro blinked a few times to make sure he was not dreaming---there was no way a 1971 Dodge Charger was sitting right in front of him in all its classic, refined glory. Stifling an excited gasp, he examined the situation a little further before detecting the source of the angry muttering. With a cock of his head, Kankuro dropped down to his hands and knees and peered under the car. The person he found was not what he expected to see—until he realized the pretty face really did belong to a guy.

But with the extraordinarily long blonde hair, Kankuro knew he was not the only one to mistake the guy for a girl at first glance, especially with the obscure view of his face.

"Damnit, un!" the guy shouted, tossing the wrench in his hands away angrily, thankfully not in Kankuro's direction. Groaning, the blonde ran both of his dirty, calloused hands over his face. "This is never going to work, yeah!"

Kankuro looked quickly around the surrounding area before locating what he'd been looking for. Grabbing up a wrench a size smaller than the one that had been thrown, Kankuro reached under the Charger to offer it.

"Try this."

The guy dropped his hands and turned to him, eyes a distinct shade of blue very similar to Gaara's—somehow, the color did not irritate Kankuro as much as when he saw it on his brother. They stared at each other for a very long, awkward five seconds. Then the blonde's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

"Woah!" he yelled, scrambling away from Kankuro and messily scooting out from under the car. His head banged against the edge loudly as he sat up. "Shit!"

"Dude, chill out!" Kankuro said, standing up and carefully setting the wrench down on the work table. It was obvious the guy worked on cars a lot, what with all the parts and tools scattered about the desks and benches. Putting his hands up in surrender, Kankuro faced the blonde, now standing on the other side of the car, tire iron posed in his hands like a weapon. "I just heard you in here and thought I'd check it out. Sorry."

"I'm sure you are," came a deadly cold voice from behind him, and Kankuro turned to find the end of a pistol less than an edge from his face—and it was the dangerous end.

"Holy fuck…" he whispered, almost pissing himself on the sport. What the hell? Before he knew it, he was begging for his life. "God, p-p-please don't hurt me! I didn't m-mean to t-trespass or anything! I'm sorry! I-I just moved here—I d-didn't know! I was just curious!"

"Well, you know what they say about curiosity," the man with gun said softly, his velvety voice so strangely out of place in the situation—Kankuro could not see his face. He heard the safety click back. "Guess you get to be the cat."

That was when he began to sob—tears sprang from his eyes, hot and salty, just as a small dribble of snot escaped his nose. He kept pleading, whimpering, trying to convince this _crazy_ person he was not worth killing. _Am I really going to die?_

"Itachi, what the fuck are you doing, yeah!" the blonde was yelling, sounding more pissed than panicked or worried. "He's just a fucking kid. What's he going to do, hm? Stop scaring the shit out of him, will you?"

"Hn," was the response, and Kankuro opened his eyes to watch the gun disappear from his line of sight. With a choked cry of relief, he collapsed to the ground, shaking horribly. He almost threw up.

"How many times do I need to tell you that "hn" isn't a word, huh, Uchiha?" the blonde snapped in annoyance, and though Kankuro heard footsteps indicating he was walking closer, he did not dare look up.

"Neither is 'un', Deidara," the other, Itachi, replied with a mockingly dignified tone. He sounded arrogant and powerful, but right now, Kankuro was not complaining. "How did he get in here?"

"I don't know, yeah!" Deidara, the blonde, cried out defensively. "I was trying to fix this fucking piece of junk and he just randomly popped up out of nowhere, yeah!"

There was a sigh and Kankuro winced when long fingers grabbed the back of his neck, yanking his head up. He cried out without meaning to and found himself, after blinking away his tears, staring at a very pretty man.

"How did you get in here?" Itachi asked, locking him in place with impossibly red eyes—Kankuro never knew eyes could _be_ that color. With a trembling hand, Kankuro pointed to the back door. Itachi saw, then shot him a look. "You just walked in?" Kankuro nodded, and Itachi dropped him with a disapproving scowl at Deidara. "Idiot. You let him just waltz in here?"

"How was I supposed to know some kid was going to wander in here, un?" Deidara growled. The tension was obvious between the two—it was clear they disliked each other, and Kankuro took the opportunity to look at the two.

They were about the same height, but Deidara had a more muscular build, which was prominent in the casual black wife-beater and low-slung jeans he wore. Deidara held himself to be intimidating, his attitude playfully cocky, as if everyone and everything amused him—except for Itachi, that was. His long blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, probably to keep it out of the way while he worked, and his right eye was noticeably bloodshot. As for Itachi, he stood with a cool confidence declaring he felt nothing at all. His expression was carefully void of emotion, but an aura of danger with a hint of irritation pervaded the area around him. His hair was also long, though much thinner than Deidara's, and it was held in a lower ponytail. His features were much more feminine, especially with the pretty curve of his lips and the narrow slant of his eyes. Dark circles traced his eyes, sort of like Gaara's, but less obvious. It just made his eyes look freakier.

Still, he had to wonder…

"Excuse me," he piped up quietly from his place on the floor. They both turned to him, Itachi calm and Deidara annoyed. Flinching, Kankuro straightened a bit and, gathering his courage, asked, "Why do you two live here, together? You don't seem to enjoy each others' company or anything…and you don't look like you're related."

"Me? Related to an Uchiha?" Deidara barked, then blanched sarcastically. "No way, yeah! They are _way_ too stuck-up!"

"And intelligent," Itachi shot back easily. Kankuro watched them glare at each other, two personalities so completely different living in the same household, tolerating each other. _That sounds familiar._ That was when Itachi looked down at him, giving Kankuro his attention. "What is your name?"

"Kankuro Sabaku," he answered with a small shrug, not feeling quite so scared without the gun in his face. Itachi's expression did not change, but a look of muted surprised crossed over Deidara's, as if the name was significant. "I live behind you guys with my uncle and sister."

"Really, now?" Itachi purred, squatting comfortably until he was eye level with Kankuro—the teen had to swallow the lump in his throat in order to keep breathing. "Why did you come in here then? It's early."

"I always wake up early, 'cause of school, really, and I heard him working on the Charger," Kankuro said, shrugging again. He didn't bother to look or gesture to Deidara—Itachi kept him firmly rooted to the spot. It was impossible to look away from his eyes, the color of fresh blood morbidly hypnotic. "This neighborhood is so friendly and he sounded like he was having trouble—" Deidara snorted in offense. "—so I thought I'd offer my help. I'm good with my hands, you know. Mechanics and engineering and all that."

Itachi studied him for a long moment in which Kankuro felt both flattered at having his attention and scared out of his mind. This guy was creepy, but so damn mesmerizing at the same time! His voice was the same, and Kankuro felt compelled to listen to every word he said even as he trembled.

"My name is Itachi Uchiha," he said without any emotion as far as Kankuro could see. "This is Deidara Iwa. The reason we live here is because we are colleagues of a sort. We work together."

"And we do some serious fucking work," Deidara snickered, sounding innately proud of himself and thrilled by the reminder.

"Yes, what we do is very serious," Itachi said, voice low and intimidating. Kankuro wondered if threatening people was a part of their work. Considering the gun that had been held to his head five minutes ago, Kankuro would not hold it past them. "We were aware that a government official would be moving in nearby, so we've been keeping our work under the radar. Lately, we've been moving out of town to draw the attention away from our base. However…now that you have so conveniently travelled into our mist, maybe you could help."

"Help?" Kankuro repeated uncertainly, finding himself more and more curious as Itachi spoke.

"Our real mechanic is currently out of commission," Itachi said slowly, a way of telling Kankuro not to panic or ask questions. "One of our jobs went a little wrong and he was injured. Though he should be alright in a while, he is unable to fulfill his work. Nobody else is, as you put it, 'good with their hands.' Deidara is the closest we have, but he specializes in a very different field."

Kankuro glanced away quickly for a moment to find Deidara's glower turn into a maniacal grin. Suddenly, Kankuro did not care to know what exactly it was that Deidara specialized in. Shaking his head, Kankuro said, "Look, I can't be running around and getting into trouble. I won't ask what you guys do, but I'm going to guess it isn't legal. If I get caught up in that, my uncle could lose his job and my future is ruined."

"I understand completely," Itachi said, nodding, but there was still no emotion on his face at all. "My father was chief of police before he was killed." There was a pause, and nobody said a word. Then, Itachi was speaking again, "But you don't have to worry about that. No field missions, nothing illegal for you. We just need you to fix up our transportation and such every now and then, okay?"

"Yeah, just sneak over here like you did today, un," Deidara chimed in helpfully. Kankuro hesitated, admiring the Charger for a moment before sighing.

"I'm sorry, I can't," he said, quickly going on, "I won't say a word to my uncle or anyone else—"

"We can pay," Deidara interrupted, gleaming blue eyes staring him down, glittering like ice. "And working for us can get you respect, experience…and power."

"And it will only be for a few months," Itachi added, eyes watching Kankuro's every movement and reaction. "Our group is moving our base anyway near March."

Kankuro quickly counted up the months until then, and then he returned Itachi's hard gaze with his own, feeling much more confident. "How much?"

"Five," Itachi stated simply, and Deidara moved over to a small cut-out section of the wall, a small safe. As he spun the combination, Kankuro raised an eyebrow.

"Hundred?" he questioned warily, both surprised and a little giddy at the thought of so much money. For the first time, though, Itachi smirked, but before Kankuro could ask, a thick wad of cash was dropped in front of him.

"Thousand, yeah," Deidara corrected as Itachi stood up. Kankuro hesitantly reached out to touch the money, picking it up gingerly—it was entirely hundreds. "Per job."

"What?" Kankuro exclaimed, looking up at the two men in amazement. When they said nothing, Kankuro paused and held the money up questioningly. "Then what is this for? I didn't…"

"It's your first mission, yeah," Deidara laughed, and to elaborate, he placed a finger to his smiling lips. _Hush money,_ Kankuro realized.

"So, do we have an agreement, Mr. Sabaku?" Itachi asked, but everyone present already knew the answer. Kankuro was only a kid, as Deidara had said, and children were easily persuaded by the things they had promised.

"Yeah," Kankuro said, taking the hand Itachi offered and using it to stand. Neither of them let go as Kankuro looked Itachi in the eye and said, "We have a deal."

* * *

**_CAPE CARTERET, NORTH CAROLINA – 1:53 P.M. – JULY. 31, THURS._**

* * *

A great deal a people often asked Shikamaru Nara why, of all the words in the English dictionary, "troublesome" seemed to be his favorite. In turn, Shikamaru was often left the victim to an array of dumbfounded and pestering remarks that tended to follow him around and pop up every now and then, when he revealed that his favorite word was actually "athazagoraphobia." Thankfully, however, it often happened that whoever had asked the question to begin with usually failed to ask what exactly that meant, except for two people.

The first had been his mother, who had promptly asked him what the fuck that meant and where did he get off using those big ass words to make himself sound smart, forgetting momentarily he had scored the highest I.Q. on the east coast.

The second had been a combination of Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha one summer afternoon when everyone else had run off to the beach to party. It had started out as a planned day of cloud gazing and occasional intellectual conversation with the Uchiha, but Naruto had stuck around after being disheartened by the memory of Sakura being out of town, and not in her bikini.

Shikamaru remembered that day clearly, because it had been the day he had let his biggest secret slip to the most strident boy he had ever met. He recalled everything about that day, and about the exact moment it had happened, too.

_The wind brushed upon his face hesitantly at first, a teasing glance of air that coasted across one cheek and danced away, skittish and flighty. Pushed by some unseen force, it then advanced bravely over what it had not yet touched, marching gallantly on the sensitive nerves of his skin. Wrinkling his nose, Shikamaru discarded the ticklish sensation with a swipe along his forehead with the palm of his hand. _

_To his left, the soothing sounds of Naruto's pencil tracing indiscriminate patterns on the surface of his sketching paper flitted through the air. In the entire span of time that Shikamaru had known the blonde, it was believably the most serene, gratifying noise Naruto had ever conjured. It somehow calmed Shikamaru in knowing every clearly defined scratch of smooth graphite sliding along paper created a line that was undeniably real and in existence, yet could so unmistakably be erased into oblivion. _

_Behind him was the illimitably silent Sasuke, relaxed within the shade of his back porch, the fairness of his pale skin incapable of withstanding the summer sun's rays. Unlike Shikamaru, custom to helping his father herd and raise deer, and Naruto, who found the outdoors as inviting as a bowl of hot ramen, Sasuke Uchiha indefinitely belonged in the cool, dark shadows he preferred over sunlight. Some deemed it unhealthy, but one might wonder what advantages a guy like Sasuke would have with a second-degree sunburn, or maybe even worse, a tan as golden as his friend's. The thought was inconceivable. _

_Shikamaru had promptly plopped down onto the grass upon his arrival and had proceeded to lay himself out on his back. The inviting glow of sunlight on his skin was enough to cast his spirit into a hazy, laid-back state of mind. Everything became carefree, lifted of worries, and he closed his eyes unhurriedly and allowed himself to lounge in the greatness of Sasuke's vast backyard. _

_People would think that he was not close friends with the Uchiha, and in true retrospect, he presumed he really was not. On the other hand, Shikamaru had long ago developed a complacent friendship with Naruto for reasons obscure even to the genius. It appeared, for all that Shikamaru could make of it, Naruto made a friend out of everyone he met, be they willing or no. Due to this relationship, to get to the point, Sasuke, being firmly protective over Naruto, despite the blonde having never having noticed it, made sure to thoroughly check each and every soul who dared step into Naruto's life. This ritual had eventually passed to Shikamaru, and by the end of it all, the two turned out to be on the same level of intellectual skills. Of course, Shikamaru could use a further extent of his brain in terms of strategy, logic, memorization, and the like, but Sasuke proved himself an exact opposite of his dunce of a friend. _

_Every so often, Sasuke and Shikamaru would converse about theory and philosophy, politics and economy, social standings and gossip, insights and perceptions. They found a mutual understanding in each other, a type of confidential relationship that never bordered any other sort of bond. If asked to call the name of a friend, Sasuke would be far from the top of Shikamaru's list, and likewise for the Uchiha. _

_Shikamaru doubtlessly knew Sasuke better than anyone else at Konoha High, and that included all the fan-girls, his brother Itachi, Naruto, and even the moody young man himself. Regardless of everything Shikamaru knew and the secrets he had uncovered about Sasuke Uchiha, he was by no means his friend. _

_Hence, the trio's current position in Sasuke's wide expanse of a yard, freshly mowed, glittering green grass covering everything with shallow, bought perfection, as everything Uchiha was. Naruto absentmindedly sketching away, a hobby that had, for once, caught Shikamaru off guard, as it was unfitting of the obstreperous boy, though he was really quite good at it; Sasuke coolly observing the world and its wonders with eyes that stared so far off into space, Shikamaru wondered on occasion if he would ever come back; and Shikamaru, basking in the blissful sunlight and the joy of his day off work. It took no one by surprise when Naruto broke the silence. _

"_How come you use that word a whole lot, huh, Shikamaru?" he suddenly pondered out loud, as if he had been thinking for a long while and his train of thought had led him to this mind-consuming question. _

"_I know a lot of words, and I use many of them 'a whole lot,'" was the lazy drawl that Shikamaru responded with. It took little brains to know what Naruto was referring to, but something made Shikamaru pause and prolong the conversation, as if he somehow predicted his impending doom. "Which of them do you mean?"_

"_That one big one," Naruto said, and Shikamaru did not have to open his eyes to see the concentrated frown on his face, the one he adorned when deep in thought. "It starts with a 't,' right Sasuke?"_

"_You mean 'troublesome?'" Sasuke breathed calmly, the words like smoke from his lips. Cool, calm, and collected, it was clear Sasuke had a minimal amount of interest in Naruto's curiosity. _

"_Yeah, that one!" he shouted, much louder than was necessary, considering it was only three of them listening to him, and they were both less than three yards away from him. "How come you use it so much? It's gotta be your favorite word or something! What's it mean, anyway?"_

"_Are you really that dense?" Sasuke scoffed, the insult clear and normal and as blunt as it always was when concerning Naruto's intelligent. Shikamaru could hear the affection in it despite Naruto's meaningless growl of angry warning—it was obvious he would not do anything about Sasuke's abuse even if he was flustered by it. To provoke the blonde, Sasuke tacked on an additional point by saying, "That's a big word for stupid, by the way."_

"_I know that!" Naruto yelled, but before either of them indulged in their brotherly bantering any longer, the blonde turned his attention back to Shikamaru. "So, answer the question!"_

"_It means worrisome. Bothersome. Annoying. Taxing. Intractable. Inconvenient. Difficult. Pestiferous. Vexatious. Etc," Shikamaru listed in a voice as boring as humanly possible. With a sigh and an absent-minded stretch, he continued by answering the other end of Naruto's question, "I say it because I find most of the events in my days to _be_ troublesome, or annoying or whatever word you want to use. I don't like confrontation or waking up or doing homework or talking to people I don't like or doing work or going to school or dealing with frivolous affairs. But it's not my favorite word."_

"_Really?" Naruto asked, not fazed at all by Shikamaru's lengthy answer, the one he had purposely dragged out in the hopes of Naruto dropping the topic, only because the genius knew he would not. Even if he did and forgot about it, the blonde would no doubt bring it up at the worst moment possible in the sometime near future, or worse, far down the road when Shikamaru thought he was finally in the clear. "What is, huh? Betcha can't guess mine! It's—"_

"_Ramen," Sasuke finished, so calmly and clearly that Naruto's cry of indignation at Ssauke's behavior might have actually been fitting had the sound not driven Shikamaru to the brink of insanity. _

"_Jerk!" Naruto shot back, much in the manner of a five-year-old at someone who had just stolen his crayons, and Shikamaru had a feeling the blonde might have even stuck his tongue out at Sasuke. However, it did not deter Naruto from pursuing his answer, and Shikamaru almost wondered _why_, had he not already known he would find no result other than the fact that it was _Naruto_. "So, what's yours, Shikamaru? And shut up, Sasuke!"_

"_I don't know it," Sasuke mumbled, sounding vaguely curious now, as though Shikamaru's claim had taken him by surprise as well. _

"_It's '__a__thazagoraphobia,'" Shikamaru said with a sigh, fighting to keep his eyes shut and his body immobile rather than running away. Either way, he was dealing with two very troublesome options, both unappealing and unhelpful. Stay and face the problem or get up from his comfortable position, get a ride, and avoid Naruto's pestering question for the rest of his life? It was hard. The silence he was rewarded with was probably due to Naruto's awe and Sasuke's contemplation. _

"_So, what are you scared of?" Sasuke asked, creating slight discomfort for Shikamaru. It startled him that the Uchiha had spoken first, and that could only mean he had figured out the most plausible reason as to why that was Shikamaru's favorite word. It seemed Sasuke had figured Shikamaru out as well. _

"_Don't change the subject!" Naruto whined, his glare obvious in Sasuke's direction obvious despite the fact that Shikamaru could not see it. Excitedly, the boy proceeded to ask, "So what does _that_ mean?"_

_Sasuke muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, but it might not have mattered anyway, because Shikamaru could have sworn it did not sound English. He knew the Uchiha was fluent in languages other than English because of his high-class upbringing, and Shikamaru had caught him switching from one to another out of sheer instinct or subconscious. Still, Naruto was now currently prodding his side with the sharp end of his pencil, and Shikamaru was well aware that the torture would not stop until Naruto was fully satisfied with an answer. _

"_A__thazagoraphobia is the fear of being forgotten," he finally relented with a sigh, though thinking back on it, he would realize he did not put up much of a fight. Maybe it was because nobody had really asked before and he did not have much practice. Or it could be that something about Naruto just made you trust him. And Sasuke had probably known for months anyway, possibly longer. "It is also the fear of being ignored or forgetting."_

"_You're scared someone will forget you?" Naruto pried, and Shikamaru could hear not only curiosity, but genuine concern in his voice. "Who?"_

"_Someone," he sighed, finally opening his eyes to look up at the clouds, each one white and voluminous and made of the same material, but none of them identical to another, like snowflakes, only more substantial and free. _

"_A certain someone?" Naruto continued, and when Shikamaru did not answer, the teasing continued, but only with a laugh and a single word. "Who? Ino?"_

_The lack of reply shocked Naruto into a stunned silence, respectful in a way, that only few managed to accomplish. Shikamaru could not say he was particularly proud of glad to have achieved this, considering the pride it cost him, and the actual willpower to resist a sudden urge to punch Naruto in the face. The out-of-character appeal to the idea simply jolted it out of Shikamaru's head altogether. Plus, if he so much as flicked Naruto in the face for being nosy, he was dead, and that was a definite sort of conflict he did not want to deal with the summer before his freshman year. Talk about troublesome._

"_You don't want Ino to forget you?" Naruto spoke softly, gently, as if even he knew some skills when it came to tactfulness. Regardless, he pressed on, though Shikamaru had hoped he would understand his silence well enough. Granted, Naruto really did not understand anything unless it was spelled out to him. "Why would she forget _you_, Shikamaru? It's not like either of you are going anywhere, and you're like her best friend besides Sakura. Why are you—"_

"_Yo, idiot," Sasuke suddenly called out, cutting Naruto's sentence off with firm authority no one else could use with Naruto seriously. "Shut up."_

"_But—"_

"_Some people don't like talking about the way a person makes them feel," Sasuke stated firmly, trying to force the words into Naruto's head. However, Shikamaru heard the Uchiha's tone weaken as he continued to speak, haunted by thoughts and emotions that echoed Shikamaru's in a strange, dissimilar way. "Sometimes, it's just better to show the person they care about how they feel about them…even if they're too caught up in everything else to ever notice it."_

If anything really stood out to Shikamaru that day, it would be the way the Uchiha gingerly stepped around the word "she," though Naruto, as always and forever, remained blissfully ignorant and oblivious.

Yes, Sasuke understood perfectly.

* * *

**I am on a roll. I don't know if I'm doing a good job writing or not, but I'm actually shooting through a lot of my stories, one by one. It's kind of exciting that my writer's block is gone, but I'm just worried it'll come back as soon as I get too happy. So, no happy for me. However, this is the third story I've updated in the past week, so I really hope you guys enjoy it. I will be working on Amongst Hell Are Angels and Mute, and possibly Incubus. Plus, this one of course, and a couple I haven't posted that I don't want to post until the entire story is finished. So, review, please. **

**AnimeCountDown**


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